


Birthday Letters

by ace_writergirl



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, angsty angst, brittana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_writergirl/pseuds/ace_writergirl
Summary: The deep breath held seven years of friendship and love and she was about to exhale. "I know that I said that I'd wait forever for you, Santana, but I can't do this anymore." AU Brittana.
Relationships: Brittany/Original Female Character(s), Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 9
Kudos: 51





	1. 2012

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from ff.net circa 2012.
> 
> In case you missed the tag - ANGST ;)

Brittany took a deep breath. It felt like she'd been holding it for minutes, hours, days, months and even years. She held her breath until she felt like she was about to burst; it was the only way she was going to say what she needed to say. The deep breath held seven years of friendship and love and she was about to exhale.

"I know that I said that I'd wait forever for you, Santana," she whispered. Her voice couldn't come out any stronger. "But I can't do this anymore."

Dark eyes blinked in surprise.

"What?" She was hurt. Obviously, she was hurt. Hell, it was _killing_ Brittany to even form the words, but either way, she died a little every morning when she woke up to an empty bed.

"I let you hide us in high school, San," Brittany continued, the tightness in her chest threatening to push the torrent of tears she knew was waiting to fall. "We're three months away from graduating college and I can't hide anymore. I…" her voice choked and she managed to swallow a sob. "I can't wait for you to accept yourself. If you don't do it now, you never will. And I can't be around you if you're going to pretend to be something you're not. I just… I can't watch you be two different people anymore."

She had to get out of there fast. The tears were about to fall and she couldn't let Santana see how much she didn't want to break up, even though Santana probably could see it clear as day. Brittany had to be strong. Santana Lopez was going to kill her slowly but surely if she didn't get out.

As she stood up and walked to Santana's door, she wasn't sure what hurt more – walking away from the love of her life or watching Santana let it happen.

* * *

Thank God she'd already got a job lined up. Sure, she still needed to graduate, but she'd gone for an interview over Christmas break at an awesome company and they'd called her a week later, asking her to come back to sign a contract.

If she didn't have that she'd probably be dropping out.

It'd been a slow and torturous week since she walked away from Santana. She hadn't heard from her, hadn't seen her, and part of her was glad for it. But after seven years of seeing each other every day and spending practically every night together, Brittany found herself with permanent heartache. She loved Santana _so_ much, but it just didn't feel like the raven-haired goddess felt the same way.

She'd told Brittany that she loved her. She'd told her on many occasions and Brittany had believed her. Honestly, she knew Santana loved her. That was what hurt so much.

 _If you love someone, you fight for them, right? You do whatever you can to make sure that they came first and that they are happy. Right_?

She'd done all that and more for Santana, but it had seldom been reciprocated and Brittany was so tired of putting in all the effort to their relationship – their _secret_ relationship – when Santana still did as she pleased. She didn't cheat or anything like that. Brittany knew she would never. They'd been completely faithful to each other since their junior year of high school.

Five and a half years. That was a long time to be in a secret relationship with someone, no matter how much you loved them.

Santana was so petrified of rejection by everyone else that she forgot to keep the one person who loved her so completely close. And that same rejection had come from the one person she'd probably least expected it to, but Brittany didn't regret it. She couldn’t regret it. It hurt. Jesus, did it hurt, but she knew she'd done the right thing.

* * *

The pounding on her door didn't stop, no matter how deep Brittany buried her head under her duvet.

"Brittany Susan Pierce! You'd better open this goddamn door before I call your mother!"

She threw the covers off and stomped across the room to unlock her front door.

"Fuck off, Fabray," she growled before turning around and promptly falling back into bed.

She heard Quinn sigh and close the door to her tiny apartment behind her.

"Jesus, Britt. Have you even moved out of here in the last week?"

"Yes. I moved from my bed to the bathroom and back again a few times."

"Smart ass."

Brittany didn't say anything. Her emotions were catching up to her again as they had done a few times over the last week and she started sobbing uncontrollably. Her pillow was soon soaked and her body shook and cramped with her effort to try and rein her heartache in.

She felt warm arms encircle her and her bed dipped. Quinn started humming and it took about fifteen minutes for Brittany's weeping to subside to a few shaky sobs and a whimper every now and then.

"Sweetie, I hate seeing you like this."

"It had to happen. If not now, two, three, four years down the line. She's never going to accept who she is, Quinn. And _I_ need to accept that about her and move on."

Quinn was quiet and Brittany was thankful. But she knew it was because Quinn couldn't actually think of anything to say. It was often the case with her and Santana. So few people had actually known about them – Santana's paranoia had ensured that. Quinn had figured it out back in high school, but she promised never to say anything and she'd kept her word.

Santana's older sister knew, but she lived in Lima with their parents so she didn't have to worry much.

Brittany's parents embraced their daughter's sexuality openly and Quinn had always mumbled that Santana was jealous because she was absolutely terrified that her parents would never accept her, even though both Brittany and Quinn knew they would. Santana was just so insecure that she refused to acknowledge even the possibility of people accepting that she was gay.

"I should've been enough," Brittany whispered out loud, but she'd meant to keep it to herself.

"You're so much more than that, Britt," Quinn replied softly. "So much more. And when you move past this, some lucky girl out there is going to find out just how amazing you are."

Brittany just snuggled into Quinn and hoped that she was right. She didn't think she could possibly feel such pain for the rest of her life and live. It would kill her. Possibly even more than being with Santana.

Bright future: being with Santana would kill her and the pain from being without her also felt like it would kill her.

* * *

It didn't kill her. It sometimes felt like it, though. After a month, Brittany was back to full strength in her classes and her professors had ceased with the concerned looks and offers of extensions on papers.

Brittany refused to allow any special treatment. Sure, she was dyslexic and all her teachers knew that, but she'd proven them all wrong and was sitting top of most of her classes. It helped that she was studying something super interesting.

She never thought she'd get into advertising, but the creativity it allowed her overactive imagination was perfect. Everyone had agreed. And she had a job lined up at a very up and coming agency right there in LA. She didn't even have to move anywhere.

She knew that she'd probably see Santana at some point. Luckily, they weren't studying even remotely the same thing so their classes were never in the same buildings. But they did both like their coffee and the campus had an amazing little coffee house. Quinn had been making all their coffee runs since Brittany had come out of hiding, but that morning she had an early exam and Brittany was dying for some good caffeine.

Her head was down as she scrolled through some news updates from her soon-to-be boss on her phone and she heard the soft voice two people in front of her.

"Just a black coffee, please."

She almost dropped her phone. Her heart started hammering and that familiar ache that had kind of settled into a slight discomfort in her heart flared up, causing her to gasp in physical pain.

Just her voice could cripple her. What the hell would seeing her do?

Brittany slipped out of the line and fled. Her caffeine addiction would have to deal with the shitty coffee from the comms building.

* * *

Graduation day was amazing. Her parents, brother and sister flew in for the day and they all went out for lunch before the ceremony, Quinn included. She had been a firm attachment of the Pierce family since she and Brittany had become best friends in third grade.

Her apartment had pretty much already been packed up. With her very generous salary, she was able to move to a bigger apartment away from the campus and closer to work. The best part was that she was going to be living with Quinn.

"Britt, we gotta get going," Quinn said, checking her watch.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Hey!" Mrs. Pierce said, offended.

Her daughter chuckled. "You're my real mom and she's my college mom. I have more than enough love for you both."

Matching smiles went around the table. Brittany definitely knew how to brighten up any day with a few choice words.

Quinn held her hand tightly as she watched Santana walk up to get her diploma from the dean. She smiled, but Brittany knew it wasn't genuine. Santana looked into the crowd and immediately found her. Her heart started hammering and that pain, absent for two months, made a resounding return.

She started hyperventilating as quietly as she could manage. She wasn't about to miss her own fucking graduation because Santana Lopez still held a vice like grip around her heart.

She tore her eyes away from Santana’s desperate gaze and focused on the blue sky, forcing her breathing to slow in time with the soft strokes Quinn's thumb was making across the back of her hand.

"Thank you," Brittany murmured when she was able to breathe normally again.

"Anything for you, Britt."

* * *

Her job was awesome, but hard work. Brittany had never shied away from hard work. To say she'd been dropped in the deep end and left to swim would be an accurate description. Her company had just landed a massive account – their biggest to date – and they obviously needed to make a really good first impression on what they could offer.

Brittany arrived at work early and left late. She almost forgot what the sun looked like. Luckily, the team she was working with was energetic and always raring to go, just like her. One of the associates, Brad, took a liking to her and she was forced to disclose her sexuality in a public setting when they all went out to a bar after a long week. Luckily, everyone was totally cool. One of her new friends, Lauren, even offered to introduce her to one of her friends, but Brittany politely declined.

The heartache came back every night. It had ever since seeing Santana at graduation. She was super quiet with her crying, but Quinn still knew and just gave her an extra long hug in the mornings.

Brittany was terrified that it wouldn't ever go away and she'd spend the rest of her life hopelessly in love with a girl who couldn't just accept herself. That was what hurt the most; Santana was such an amazing person, beautiful, sexy, _so_ smart and funny. But she was only like that with Brittany. She became a completely different person as soon as someone else stepped in the room so hiding that they were in love with each other really hadn't been very difficult. Santana was a bitch and people just reasoned that Brittany was just a nice girl who tolerated her.

Brittany had never told Santana, but when she turned into the other Santana, that's exactly what happened – Brittany simply tolerated her. That was why they had spent most of their time together alone. That was why Brittany fell so head over heels in love with a romantic, sweet and loving girl who made her toes curl and set butterflies bursting through her stomach. The girl who made her skin tingle whenever she would press her lips anywhere on her body.

Santana had been Brittany's first and she kind of hated that she would always be that person. It was yet another way for her to never forget Santana.

Not that she ever could…

* * *

She tried dating. It was the 4th of July weekend and after weeks of hinting, Brittany took Lauren up on her offer.

Chelsea was attractive and funny and Brittany honestly had a good time hanging out with her. But she didn't feel anything when Chelsea pulled into her and pressed her lips onto Brittany's. She tried to fake it, but she was pretty sure that Chelsea could tell that she wasn't into it.

She agreed to another date. Maybe she was just rusty and needed to spend more time with someone other than her best friend.

Four dates later and Brittany found she genuinely liked Chelsea. She was sweet and thoughtful and sometimes showed up as Brittany was finishing work so that she could walk her home. It made Brittany smile and she loved linking their fingers together as they chatted, often drinking iced coffees. Chelsea was proud to be seen with Brittany. She wasn't scared to kiss her in public and Brittany relished in the feeling of freedom. She felt so at ease and more like herself than she ever had before.

Quinn approved of Chelsea. She'd passed the mandatory best friend clearance with flying colours.

* * *

She slept with Chelsea after a month and it was…nice. She acted like it was more and felt guilty when Chelsea was sleeping, her naked body draped over hers. Maybe it was like the kiss – that had felt infinitely better after a few times. Maybe the sex would get better after a few times too.

Brittany's birthday was in August and summer was winding down, which made her sad because she really loved summer. Chelsea surprised her with a four-day vacation to Hawaii. Lauren had already cleared her at work and Brittany excitedly got ready for her trip. She couldn't stop touching and kissing Chelsea at the airport. She was super happy and it was genuine.

The vacation was perfect and the sex really did get better. Brittany returned to work a little browner and sporting a new necklace with Chelsea's name on it.

* * *

October came around and she was working extra hard. She often didn't leave work until nine. She was exhausted and Chelsea was amazingly supportive. She gave her foot rubs and took bubble baths with her. It was in one of the bubble baths that Chelsea whispered _I love you_ in her ear, sending shivers down Brittany’s spine. They weren't from the words, though. She shivered because all she could think about was Santana saying those same words in a very similar situation.

Lord Tubbington was hiding from her and she needed to give him his nicotine tablets. He'd been avoiding her since she'd taken him to the vet so she figured he was pissed at her for making him kick the habit.

She checked the closet in Quinn's room and rummaged around where she kept her shoes. She knew Lord Tubbington liked to hide in her shoeboxes and for some strange reason, Quinn kept all her shoes in their boxes.

A smaller box with her name on it caught her eye and she furrowed her brow in curiosity. Quinn was pretty good with getting presents early, but Christmas was still two months away – it was early, even for her. Plus, it wasn't wrapped in Christmassy paper. And the writing on the card…

Santana.

It was her writing.

Brittany sat on the floor in front of Quinn's closet and stared at the box in her hand for an indeterminable amount of time. Quinn eventually found her and Brittany just held up the box, silently demanding an explanation.

Quinn sat on her bed, fiddling with her hands in embarrassment.

"She came by on your birthday and dropped it off. She wanted to see you, but you were in Hawaii with Chelsea."

"Did you tell her that?" Brittany whispered.

Quinn nodded. "She looked…sad. She said to tell you happy birthday and that she wishes you all the best for the year ahead."

Brittany didn't realise that she was crying until she felt drops splatter on her hands bunched tightly in her lap, holding Santana's gift. Why did she feel _so_ sad at the thought of Santana wishing her well? Should she be surprised, though? She didn't stop her when she'd left her in March. She didn't try to contact her. Except now. What was so special about Brittany's birthday that made her ex-secret girlfriend go to the trouble of finding out where she lived and getting her a present?

Brittany stood up, not saying another word to Quinn and shut herself in her room. She sat on her bed and put the present on the duvet, just staring at it. What could possibly be inside? And what would it mean?

Time was lost and eventually Brittany opened the box. She pulled out a folded stack of papers and her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely make out Santana's neat handwriting.

_Dear Brittany_

_I think this is seventeenth draft of this letter that I'm writing so I hope this one makes the cut. You know that I've never been good with words, but I couldn't bear you not knowing anymore. Hence the letter. And the unexpected visit. I'm sorry, by the way, if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I know we haven't seen each other in months and then all of a sudden, there I am, standing on your doorstep._

_Shit, I'm getting completely off topic again. Now you can understand how this is letter number seventeen._

_Okay, firstly, happy birthday, Brittany. You're twenty-three years old today and you're living your life, just like you wanted. I love that you followed your dreams. You were always braver than me when it came to things like that. I succumbed to what my parents wanted me to do and I'm actually really hating my job. Law is just so-_

_Crap, there I go again. This isn't about me. This is about you. I'm sorry for going off on a tangent. At this point I'd normally rip up the page, but I don't think I have the energy to write another letter._

_It's incredibly hard for me to sit here and try to put everything I want to say to you into words. And it's draining. I don't know how you do it, Britt-Britt. Feeling like this is so tiring. And yet, when I was with you, it felt so easy. But you always made everything easy. Being with you was probably the easiest thing in my life. And then I had to go and fuck it up by being insecure._

_I don't blame you for leaving me. I really don't. I know it hurt you to say those things you said, even though they were completely true and I deserved them. I hate that I made you say them. I've never cried so much in my life. When I realised that you weren't coming back, that it hadn't just been some horrible nightmare, I just broke. My chest felt like it was cracking in two. I know I don't need to tell you this because you were probably feeling it too. I don't mean to sound arrogant. I just…I know you, Brittany. And I knew how much you loved me. Yet I still threw it back in your face._

_I love you. I probably always will. You gave me everything and I just took it, giving you nothing back. I bet you're probably wondering why I didn't do or say anything if I knew all this, right? Well, the truth is, I didn't know it then. I've been seeing a psychologist. I started going to see her after graduation. I told her all about you. Pretty much everything we speak about involves you. Faith (that's my psychologist) made me realise how badly and unfairly I treated you. By that stage, I'd already lost you, though. I think that hurt the most. I woke up too fucking late._

_I don't exactly know what I aim to achieve by writing you this letter, apart from wishing you happy birthday. I guess I just wanted you to know that even though we're not together anymore, you still give me strength and I'm finally putting that strength to good use and I'm really working on accepting myself. Faith has been helping me with that. I told her out loud that I was gay. But that took me two weeks to say. So it's been a slow process, but I guess I should thank you, Britt. You made me realise how stupid and selfish I was being. I want to be that person for you. I want to be able to hold your hand in public and kiss you and show you off to the world. But I can't. I know that these are very familiar words to you, but (and I hate this) it took losing you to make me realise how much I want you. But I want you in the way YOU want us. Open, out, proud. So I'm working on giving you that._

_Of course, I'm not naïve enough to think that you're going to wait around for me. I made you do that for years and look what I drove you to do. I know that you're probably going to find an amazing girl who loves you and gives you tingles and makes you smile that beautiful Brittany smile and although I'll be slowly dying inside, you deserve that with someone who can give it to you._

_Wow. This letter didn't really turn out the way I'd planned. Originally it was going to be a lot shorter and now my hand's cramping. Anyway, have an absolutely special birthday because you, Brittany Pierce, are the most special person in the whole world. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have been loved by you._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

Brittany's bed was covered in tissues as tears poured down her cheeks. She'd read the letter four times to make sure she understood everything. And she did. Very clearly. Santana was changing. She was accepting herself. For _her_. But Brittany didn't want the acceptance to be for her. She wanted Santana to want to accept herself _for_ herself.

With shaking hands, she placed the letter to one side and reached inside the box. She let a smile break out across her face, despite the tears still streaming.

She'd remembered. Santana had actually remembered. Brittany looked fondly at the little stuffed animal dressed in blue and white colours and holding the Argentine flag. Brittany held the bird close to her and squeezed it as new tears fell.

She had collected stuffed animals from all the places she'd been to as her own unique scrapbook. Her room at home was absolutely full of stuffed animals from all fifty states and anyone that knew her and had gone overseas had brought her back a stuffed animal from that country. Santana had teased her about her obsession, but over the years, had said that it was adorable. Santana had already added eleven animals to her collection in LA because her parents travelled a lot. Brittany didn't have any animals from South America, which made Santana's the first. She found herself wondering if Santana herself had gone to Argentina or if she'd made her parents get it for her.

Brittany took the letter, reading it again before folding it neatly and putting it on her bedside table before climbing under the covers and holding her new stuffed animal close to her as she fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

Chelsea could tell something was up, but she didn't press Brittany for any answers. Brittany wasn't sure if she appreciated it or wished that Chelsea would push her to tell her. After all, they were girlfriends. Girlfriends didn't have secrets, right? And Brittany knew she was harbouring a really big one.

Quinn had kept her distance since Brittany had found the box, knowing that she'd fucked up. Things weren't awkward around the apartment, but their natural flow with each other was lacking.

Christmas was approaching and Brittany was excited because she had the perfect idea for a present for Santana. Her birthday was a week before Christmas. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that told her that she should probably be focusing more on her girlfriend's Christmas gift than on her ex-secret girlfriend's birthday.

Chelsea and Quinn chalked up Brittany’s excitement to the fact that Christmas was her favourite holiday. Quinn had forgotten that it only became her favourite holiday because Santana’s birthday was around the same time.

The week of Santana's birthday came and Brittany needed quiet time to prepare her present for Santana. Once again, Quinn and Chelsea attributed her strange behaviour to the season. Brittany was curled up on her bed, her Argentine bird (she'd found out that it was their national animal) tucked against her tummy, a notebook in her hand. How the hell had Santana written a letter, let alone seventeen versions? It was fucking hard and she understood why Santana had been so drained. Her head was hurting just thinking about a response.

Once she started writing, though, she couldn't stop.

* * *

She found Santana's new address from Facebook and posted the letter off one morning before work, timing it so that she'd get it on her birthday. Quinn's company was having a New Year's bash and she begged Brittany to come. Chelsea was invited, naturally.

The evening was so much fun. Brittany had way too much champagne and made sure Chelsea was always close by to kiss or touch, although the touches were becoming more like gropes.

Chelsea giggled, but let Brittany have fun. Quinn shook her head at their behaviour and continued to shmooze. Soon, the countdown began and Brittany wrapped her arms around Chelsea, giving her a sensual kiss when fireworks started going off all around the building they were in. Chelsea guided Brittany into a slow spin as a song started up and for some reason, her eyes flickered to the doorway. A flash of long dark hair was all she saw, but there was something lying on the floor. Her natural curiosity always getting the better of her, she walked over and knelt down, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of a familiar writing on the card.

Her hands shook again as she pulled out a dorky Christmas card. She couldn't help but smile at Santana's inner child – another thing that only she'd been allowed to see. She opened the card and gasped at the scrolling words.

_Brittany,_

_You're actually quite an easy person to find – maybe you shouldn't advertise on Facebook and Twitter where you're going every second of the day. It makes stalking you incredibly simple._

_I have a confession. I'm coming here tonight (and because you're reading this card, I hope I actually had the courage to do it) to give you a midnight kiss. In public. I want to show you how serious I am about changing. And yes, I am changing for me too, Britt. But you still give me strength._

_I hope that letter you sent me won't be the last because that was the best birthday gift I have ever received._

_All my love,_

_Santana_


	2. 2013

Brittany couldn't find her. She'd disappeared. She'd been _so_ close! She looked down at the card in her hand and shivered, but she was pretty sure it wasn't because she'd simply run outside without any coat.

"Britt, is everything okay?" Chelsea asked, gently putting a hand on her arm. "You kinda just bolted."

Brittany took a deep breath and nodded, meeting Chelsea’s gaze. "Yeah, I'm good. Just…I just thought that I saw someone I knew."

"Okay," Chelsea replied with a smile. "How about we go back to the party?"

"Sure." She tried to sound enthusiastic, but she'd lost all interest in partying after Santana's abrupt departure.

Would she have kissed her? Or would she have chickened out? Did she run because she saw her with Chelsea?

Ugh. She hated the unanswered questions flying around in her head. The main one was very simple for her: Would she have kissed Santana back?

* * *

Brittany got swept up in work as the new year brought bigger accounts to their growing firm. Her boss called her into his office one afternoon in late January.

"Brittany, have a seat."

She sat, her hands clammy with nerves. She was stressing about her last campaign. She hadn't been one hundred percent confident about the angle she took and she was pretty sure she was about to be called on it.

"Congratulations!" her boss said with a smile.

"Huh?" She blinked.

"The Mayweather account. You landed us a five-year contract with them! They loved the work you did on their last campaign and they want you to exclusively run their account."

"Huh?"

No fucking way.

Her boss chuckled. "You did good, Brittany. You'll be moving off the general floor and into your own office tomorrow."

"I like the floor." She sounded ungrateful.

Her boss laughed again. "You'll still be working with the people on the floor, but you'll have your own office."

"Okay."

_Say thank you, idiot!_

"Um, thank you very much for this opportunity. Um, I definitely won't let you down."

"Excellent."

They shook hands and Brittany walked out, feeling like someone was going to jump out behind an outrageously big plant and laugh at her, congratulating themselves on a prank well played. But all the way back to her cubicle, no one jumped out.

Quinn was ecstatic and demanded that they celebrate. They went out to a swanky restaurant and ran into some of Quinn's friends who wanted to go clubbing. Brittany wasn't madly keen. Dancing had been her and Santana's thing, one of the few times where she was allowed to be pressed up against her in public and move her hands over her glorious body without Santana freaking out, although she had on many occasions.

"Britt, come on," Quinn urged. "Call up Chelsea. I'm sure she'd love to join us."

"Oh, right." Chelsea. Her girlfriend. She hadn't even told her about her promotion. "I guess I'll get on that."

She excused herself to the bathroom, shut herself in a cubicle and dialled Chelsea's number.

"Hey, babe!"

"Hi," Brittany replied, a natural smile crossing her face. Chelsea was a really good person and an amazing girlfriend. "So, I have some news."

"Yeah?"

"I got a promotion today. I'm in charge of the Mayweather account. It was their request."

"That's amazing, Britt! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks," she replied bashfully. She didn't often get praise. "Um, Quinn and I are going out clubbing with some of her friends. Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, baby, I'd love to, but I'm swamped with stuff I need to finish for tomorrow."

Chelsea was a PA to some high up person in politics. Like the mayor or something. She felt kinda bad that she hadn't taken more of an interest in her girlfriend's career.

"Oh, okay. I get that you're busy, babe. It's fine."

"Next time, though. How about we go out for dinner tomorrow night? My treat. I wanna show the world how amazing my sexy girlfriend is."

Brittany couldn't help but giggle. "That sounds awesome. I can't wait."

"Okay, Britt. I gotta go. I'm getting the evil eye. Love you."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good evening," she replied, biting her lip and hoping that Chelsea wouldn't pick up how she deliberately avoided replying in kind.

"Bye!"

Brittany sighed and hung up. She wasn't in love with Chelsea. She liked her a lot and cared for her, but she knew what love was and she just didn't feel that. Well, she didn't feel it _yet_. Maybe like with the kissing and sex, she'd eventually fall in love with her.

She exited the stall and went to the sink, staring at her reflection. A white piece of paper caught her eye. It was placed strategically next to the sink, begging to be picked up. She glanced around, but the bathroom was empty except for her. She picked it up and almost dropped it again when she saw a familiar loopy writing, spelling out her name,

_Brittany,_

_I'm a coward. I know I am. You're so close to me right now and I can hear your voice, but I'm too scared to wait for you to come out and speak to you face-to-face._

_For that reason, I know that I'm not ready for you. You still take my breath away though. When I saw you walking through the restaurant, I thought that maybe this was my chance. But you're happy and it's not my place to upset that._

_All my love,_

_Santana._

_P.S: Congratulations on your promotion. I always knew you'd be absolutely amazing at anything you did._

"Huh?"

She'd missed her _again_? Surely not! She'd been in the damn bathroom the whole time?

The logical side of her brain reminded her of something: Was she ready to see Santana?

Brittany couldn't answer that.

* * *

The Mayweather account extended her working hours by a crazy amount. She'd often leave later than everyone else to go over their progress of the day and make sure they could move forward the following day. Thankfully, it was warming up and Brittany found that she could start her morning runs again. She loved running. It set her free. She did it just because she enjoyed it.

"Hey," Quinn greeted as she came in after a morning job in March. "How are you?"

"Good."

"You sure?"

Brittany's brows furrowed. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I dunno," Quinn said nonchalantly. "I was just worried."

"Why?"

"It's a year ago today," she said quietly.

Brittany nodded. She knew that. She'd known that since the beginning of the month and every day before that. She'd never be able to forget that day in Santana's apartment as long as she lived.

"Have you spoken to Chelsea about her?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, she is your girlfriend."

Brittany blinked. Was that supposed to be enough of a reason? "So?"

Quinn sighed. "Britt, you care about Chelsea, right?"

She nodded.

"Okay, do you see things in the long term for you guys?"

Brittany shrugged. "Worrying about the future gives me a headache. I'll worry about it when I get there."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Do you love her?"

"Who?"

Quinn's eyes widened and Brittany mentally slapped herself.

"Brittany, are you still in love with Santana?"

"No," she scoffed.

Quinn arched an eyebrow.

Brittany sighed in defeat. "Yes. I don't think I know how not to be. It doesn't help that I keep getting these notes from her. Do you know that we've been in the same room _twice_ since New Year's Eve and I never knew? How could I not fucking know? I mean… I don't know what I mean."

"I think you need to figure out what you want, Britt. It's not really fair to Chelsea to continue a relationship with her when you're still in love with someone else."

"I could still fall in love with Chelsea. I mean, it took a while for the kissing and the sex to get good so maybe I just need time."

"First, TMI. We're like sisters. Anything to do with your sex life is not up for discussion."

"I wasn't-"

"Not the point," Quinn continued. "The point here, Britt, is that you're hanging onto a relationship with Chelsea because you _hope_ to fall in love with her. She loves you, right?"

Brittany nodded. "Well, she's told me."

"And you haven't said it back, have you?"

Brittany shook her head.

"That's good because I know you would never lie about something like that."

"I do care about her, though. Like a lot. She's funny and smart and accepts me for who I am."

"So basically everything Santana wasn't?" Quinn challenged.

"Don't do that," Brittany said, her eyes narrowing. "That's not fair."

"Britt, how do you expect to move on and find happiness if you compare every girl to Santana?"

"Because she's perfect!"

She dropped her head, sighing.

"Um, do I need to remind you that she kept your relationship hidden for five and a half years? That she was a complete bitch to everyone?"

"She wasn't to me, okay? She was wonderful to me. And…and…she's…"

"She's what?"

"She's trying, Quinn. She's seeing a psychologist and trying to accept who she is. She's…she's doing for me because she still loves me."

"Well, don't you think it's too little too late?"

Brittany lifted her gaze to meet her best friend's.

"Oh, no," Quinn sighed.

"What? What do you want from me, Quinn? I fucking love her, okay? I'm still _in_ love with her. But I don't know if I could ever actually be with her again and that scares the shit out of me!"

She took deep breaths and felt tears running down her cheeks.

"I…" her voice choked. "I don't want to love her, but I do. And I can't do it again. I just can't."

Quinn sighed and put her arms around her best friend, holding her tightly.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Brittany whispered.

* * *

She knew she had to break up with Chelsea. Quinn was right; it wasn't fair to her. She just wished she had a less shitty reason than 'Sorry, I'm actually still in love with my closeted ex-girlfriend who kept our relationship a secret for five and a half years'.

April arrived before Brittany had a chance to blink and she was still Chelsea's girlfriend. It killed her to pretend, but every time they were together, Chelsea was so sweet and loving that she couldn't. And the sex really was good.

But, as Quinn constantly reminded her, that wasn't a reason to stay with someone. She couldn't stay with Chelsea simply because she wasn't Santana.

But really, was being alone any better?

* * *

Summer was by far Brittany's favourite time of the year and she, Quinn and Chelsea took as much advantage of the warm temperatures as they could. Days at the beach, walks along the pier, trips to carnivals and generally just being outdoors as much as possible. It also made her think less of Santana because they had never gone out in public before. As cruel as it may be, Brittany thought that by doing things with Chelsea that Santana never did, that maybe her feelings towards Chelsea would grow. Work became a little less chaotic and she started spending a lot of time with Chelsea.

It was a very warm Wednesday evening in July and they were walking hand in hand along the beach. The silence between them was comfortable.

"Britt, I've been thinking," Chelsea began quietly.

"I do that too," Brittany said with a grin.

Chelsea lost the battle against the smile breaking onto her face. Brittany nudged her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Sorry, babe. You were thinking?"

"Yeah."

Brittany frowned as a full minute passed without Chelsea saying anything more.

"Chels?"

"Are you in love with me?" she blurted.

Brittany's eyes widened. At that moment, she realised how stupid she'd been not to have an answer ready. Of _course_ Chelsea was going to question her about not returning the 'I love you', even after a year together.

"Chelsea, I do love you," she said softly.

"But are you in love with me?" she pressed.

Brittany sighed. "I guess we've reached the point where I need to confront my demons."

"Demons?" Chelsea asked in confusion. "Britt, what exactly is going on here? Have you…have you cheated?"

"What? No! No, I would never do that to you, or to anyone."

"So what is it?"

 _Here we go_.

"When I was in high school, I met someone. Her name was Santana."

"Oh, no," Chelsea breathed. "I should've known."

Brittany frowned. "How could you have known? I've never mentioned her before."

"I-I know," Chelsea replied, dropping Brittany's hand to wring her own. "I…I found the letters. From Santana."

"You went through my stuff?" Brittany asked, not sure whether to be hurt or worried. "Wh-why did you do that?"

"I was just looking for a pair of earrings that I thought I'd left there. And there they were. The letter, the card and the note."

"I…" Brittany didn't know what to say.

"You wrote back to her." It wasn't a question.

"Just on her birthday," she mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I…I don't…"

"You don't want to tell me." It also wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's my fault too. I knew something was going on with you. Ever since New Year’s you've been more distant. I know you think you haven't been, but I could feel it wasn't the same. Whenever we were together, it was like you were only half there. I…I'm not stupid, Brittany. I ignored the obvious signs in the hope that you'd forget about her. But when I talked to Quinn-"

"You talked to Quinn?" That made her mad. She had no right.

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" Chelsea asked in exasperation.

"Talk to me!"

"Like you talk to me? Come on, Brittany. What do we actually know about each other? I know that your family lives in Lima and you go and visit them once a year when work's not too crazy. What do you know about my family?"

Brittany opened her mouth, but realised it was pointless. She didn't know anything about Chelsea's family. And it wasn't because Chelsea hadn't said anything – she just hadn't been listening.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea," she said sincerely. "I was completely unfair to you."

She shrugged. "I figured this was coming. Maybe I'm a masochist for waiting so long." She sighed. "For what it's worth, I did love you, Brittany. I just really hope that she can give you what you need now."

"It's not like that!" she said in exasperation. "I don't want to be with her!"

"But you're completely in love with her." Another statement.

"Yes," she said, resigned.

"Britt, that makes _no_ sense."

"I know," she muttered. "She's not ready to be with me."

"This whole thing with you and Santana is way too complicated for me," Chelsea said, holding her hands up resignation. "As fun as it was, Britt, I really wish you the best. Whether your happiness is found with Santana or even someone else, I hope that you do find happiness."

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're an amazing person, Chelsea. I just wish I could've been that person with you. I really did try."

"Well, I think the point is that you shouldn't have to try. It should be natural." She didn't say it in a mean way, but it got Brittany's cogs turning.

They parted with an amicable hug and Brittany whipped out her phone. She needed to do an experiment. It was probably a bad idea, but she needed to know something.

* * *

Who was she kidding? It was a _terrible_ idea. She wasn't thinking with her head, though. Maybe that was why she couldn't forget Santana. Maybe she was thinking with her heart too much.

She waited for someone to come out of the apartment building and grabbed the door before it closed. She stood outside a blue door and took a deep breath, knocking loudly.

"Are you alone?" she asked before the owner of the apartment could say anything.

A simple nod of the head was all Brittany needed. She stepped inside the apartment, closing the door behind her. She grabbed her face and pressed their lips together.

It was so much better than she remembered. _So_ much better. Maybe because she knew it was a bad idea. It was definitely a bad idea.

But as soon as Santana's tongue touched hers, all coherent thoughts went out of her head.

* * *

She knew she was being a coward. She gathered her clothes, the early morning sun filtering through half closed curtains. She didn't look back at the bed, knowing that the sight of Santana's naked body would nullify any thoughts about leaving.

But she had to. She'd been so stupid. She should never have even gone there.

_Stupid, stupid._

Of course she didn't have to try with Santana. They were meant to be. But meant to be what? A fling? A secret? Soulmates? Young experimentation? Together forever? As much as Brittany wanted to be with Santana – their passion-fuelled night had only reassured her of that – Santana wasn't ready. And, as a matter of fact, she wasn't either. She'd just gotten out of a year-long relationship and what had been the first thing she'd done? Gone straight to her ex-girlfriend and had mind-blowing sex.

She sighed inaudibly and stood up carefully, making sure not to jostle the bed as she did so. She tiptoed out of the bedroom and grabbed her boots that had been discarded by the couch during round one.

She paused before opening the door, her guilt overwhelming her. She quickly grabbed a small notepad and pad on the table in the living room and scribbled a note. It wasn't what Santana deserved, but then again, maybe it was? How many times had she left Brittany's bed in similar fashion without even leaving a note?

Brittany squeezed her eyes closed, two tears simultaneously running down her cheeks. She took a deep breath and opened the door, closing it silently behind her.

* * *

"What happened?" Quinn demanded as soon as Brittany walked into their apartment.

"What?" She was tired and drained and she just wanted to curl up with her Argentine bird.

"Where the hell have you been? I know you weren't with Chelsea."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because she came over last night to pick up her stuff. Where were you?"

Brittany shrugged. She was a little mad at Quinn for telling Chelsea about Santana. She started walking towards her bedroom.

"Oh my God," Quinn gasped. "Tell me you didn't."

"Probably not."

"Dammit, Brittany, I know you didn't have those hickeys on your neck when you left yesterday afternoon. And considering you and Chelsea broke up, I'm going to guess they're not from her."

"Maybe we had break up sex?"

"For fuck's sakes, Brittany, stop being so damn blasé!" Quinn shouted. "You fucking slept with Santana, didn't you?"

"Not so much sleeping."

"Fuck it, Brittany, have you lost your mind?"

"You don't get a say in who I do or don't do, okay? You're not my fucking mother, Quinn. Stop acting like it. I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions."

Quinn blanched. Brittany hadn't really snapped at her like that before.

"Brittany, I just worry that-"

"Don't worry, I already know that it was a mistake," she said miserably. "I just wish that it hadn't felt like the best mistake ever."

"Sweetie."

Brittany fell onto the couch and held her head in her hands. Quinn was next to her almost immediately, wrapping her arms around Brittany's shoulders.

"I know that I can't even imagine what you must be feeling. As fucked up as your relationship was, I knew how much you loved her."

"Love her," she croaked.

Quinn sighed. "How much you love her," she amended. "And although she tried to hide it, I knew she loved you too. If she's trying to change herself for the better, maybe you just gave her the incentive to _really_ try."

Brittany lifted her head and wiped her eyes. "Don't try some reverse psychology shit with me, Quinn."

"I'm not," she said with a smile. "I didn't read the letters, just so you know, but Chelsea gave me the gist of what they said. You may have given her a taste of what she could have if she really accepts who she really is."

"Ugh," Brittany moaned. "Why does this shit have to be so complicated? I love you, you love me, happily ever after. Done."

Quinn laughed. "Trust me, Britt. If love was that easy, the divorce rate would be a lot less in the world."

"I'm gonna go to bed," she mumbled. "I just… I need some time by myself."

Quinn nodded. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

Brittany sighed and kissed Quinn’s cheek before standing up and dragging her feet to her bedroom.

* * *

Yup, she was an idiot. A first-class idiot. Not only could she not get their amazing night out of her head, but the fact that she hadn't heard anything from Santana in a month was driving her crazy with…she didn't even know what.

She was angry, she was hurt, she was heartbroken (again), she was sad, she was worried.

But most of all, she _missed_ her. She'd neglected to take into account the after-effects of being with Santana again. The feeling of her lips, their skin pressing against each other, moving together as one entity, those ridiculously sexy moans, the soft whispers of love in her ear when she came. She missed all of that. Yes, maybe a lot of it was physical, but for her and Santana, that was pretty much what most of their relationship had been about. Brittany couldn't remember Santana ever taking her out on a date. They never cuddled and watched movies or anything like that.

Yet somehow, she'd still found out everything about Santana Lopez. Like how she was allergic to cherries (Brittany considered that a big loss – that sexy tongue would definitely be able to tie knots in cherry stems), or how she secretly called her sister every week to catch up on life back in Lima, how she really wanted to be a writer, how badly she pressured herself to be the daughter her parents wanted her to be, how she didn't snore, but made soft whimpers sometimes in the night. If Brittany was lucky enough to be present for them, a simple touch would relax Santana and they'd fall back asleep. Or how Santana was secretly a huge Red Sox fan, how she had an affinity for tequila – and body shots, how her eyes would soften when Brittany scrunched her nose, how her touches immediately became softer when it was just the two of them.

Brittany sighed and rested her head on her desk. Santana was everywhere and it was starting to affect her work. Lauren had found out about her and Chelsea's break up and attributed her distracted disposition to heartache. Brittany didn't bother to tell her that she had the wrong girl. But Lauren did save her ass many times when her spacey thoughts had almost got them in deep shit. She was very grateful to Lauren.

* * *

She spent her birthday snuggled under the covers in her bedroom, her TV playing random shows about natural disasters and monarchs and car chases. She wasn't really paying attention, though.

Quinn had come to lie with her for a bit, but when she'd realised that Brittany wasn't going to talk, she left her alone.

She'd got out of bed to pour herself a drink when a white envelope lying on the coffee table caught her eye. She put the bottle on the table quickly and grabbed it, the familiar handwriting setting her chest aflame. There was a postmark, which meant she hadn't hand delivered it. No present accompanied it.

She ran back into her bedroom and willed her hands to stop shaking as she gently opened the envelope.

_My dearest Brittany,_

_Happy birthday! Twenty-four today. So much has happened in a year…_

_I almost didn't write this, but I knew you were expecting one, regardless of what happened last month._

_About that, Brittany…wow. I don't really know how to describe that night other than wow. And I mean a good wow. I've never felt like that before and I think I can safely say that you felt it too. I guess I wasn't surprised when I felt you get up. I pretended to be asleep, but I couldn't stop you from leaving. I wanted to, but I felt like I deserved it. I deserved to feel abandoned the next morning like I'd done to you so many times._

_I saw you cry before you left and I wanted to just grab you and hug you and kiss you, but I knew that you were leaving for a reason. Whether it was because you missed me or just needed to get laid or were feeling lonely or whatever, I was thankful to have had that one magical night with you. Because for me, it was magical, Brittany. The most magical night I've ever had. I've never felt closer to you even though I hadn't seen you in over a year._

_Well, I suppose that's not technically true. I was at Quinn's New Year's party and I saw you and your girlfriend. She's pretty, Britt. And I'm glad you have someone who's not afraid to show off the amazing person you are. And then that night at the restaurant. God, I can't believe how much of a coward I've been._

_That ends now. I love you, Brittany. I love you so fucking much that it makes me cry because I crave you. I crave your touch, your voice, your presence, your love. And I will continue to love you until you tell me to stop. I know that you're not the type of person to cheat on your girlfriend, so I'm going to hope that you were single when we made love. If not, well, like I've said before, I'll endure the hurt of seeing you with someone else, but I'll never stop loving you._

_All my love,_

_Always,_

_Santana_

The letter just made Brittany feel worse. Santana loved her; that she knew. She'd always known that. But Santana was offering herself to her. Did she take the plunge? Did she dare? Did she risk her heart again?

As her eyes skimmed the last few lines, she knew that she didn't really have a choice because all the things that Santana said she felt, Brittany felt them too.

* * *

She went back to Lima for Thanksgiving and for the first time in months, felt a genuinely happy smile crossing her face. Her family, her amazingly accepting family, just had to call her by her nickname and she knew that they would always be there for her, no matter what she did or said.

"Bumblebee, come and help me with the coffee?" Mrs. Pierce requested after a filling dinner.

Brittany followed her mother into the kitchen and jumped up onto the counter.

"You're not going to be much help up there," Mrs. Pierce smirked.

"Well, since you didn't call me in here to actually help you with the coffee, I figured I'd get comfortable before we start whatever heart-to-heart we're about to have."

Mrs. Pierce smiled. "Quinn called me a few weeks ago."

Brittany rolled her eyes. Quinn really needed to stop trying to control her life.

"Britt, what's going on?"

She shrugged and looked down. "I don't even know if I can explain it, Mom. I don't even understand it completely."

"Try," Mrs. Pierce suggested.

Brittany took a deep breath and told her everything. Her mother had known that Brittany and Santana had been close, but she hadn't known the full extent of their relationship. Santana had made her swear not to tell her parents, even though Brittany had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that her parents would have supported them.

"Wow," Mrs. Pierce breathed when she was done. "Shit, Brittany. I mean, that's a pretty messed up situation."

"Tell me about it," Brittany muttered. "Yet no matter what I do or she does, I wake up every morning aching for her."

"Then, honey, why don't you talk to her?"

She sighed. "Mom, we haven't actually spoken since I broke up with her. We talk with letters. I don't why. It's kind of become our mode of communication."

"Well, I'd like to say that it sounds like something out of a Nicholas Sparks novel, but I somehow don't think you'd appreciate that."

Brittany just smiled. "If this was a romance novel, shouldn't we together by now?"

"Well, what's stopping you, honey?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I don't know if she's ready. I refuse to be with her if things are just going to go back to the way they were. As she said, she wants us the way I want us. I'm not going to settle for anything less."

"And you won't consider being with her as she navigates this path to acceptance?"

Brittany was quiet as she processed the question. "If we get back together and she hasn't completely accepted herself, knowing that she has me could cause her to settle. And I can't do that." She hurriedly wiped the rogue tears that slipped down her cheeks. "I won't do that again."

"I understand that, honey."

"Maybe Quinn was right."

"In what way?"

"Maybe that one night together made her realise that we're meant to be together and it'll make her work harder at accepting who she is."

"You said that she told you last year about her progress. Have you heard anything since then?"

"Actually, no. Shit! What if nothing's changed since then?"

"Well, I have an idea of how you could find out," Mrs. Pierce suggested.

* * *

Brittany looked over the letter she'd written the night before. Her foot was tapping on the floor uncontrollably.

"I thought you didn't like tap dancing," Quinn said with a smirk, opening the front door. "You got another letter?" Her tone was curious.

"No, this is her letter," Brittany mumbled. "From me."

"Oh."

They were silent for a bit.

"Aren't you going to post it?"

"If she reads this, I'm putting myself out there again. She could hurt me again. I don't know if I can survive that. I…I just don't know. I mean, I'm the one putting myself out there this time. I'm practically giving myself to her and she has all the power to either be with me or hurt me." She let out a sob. "Am I being stupid, Quinn?"

"You're not being stupid, Britt," she replied quietly, running her fingers over Brittany’s back. "You're in love and you just want to know if the girl you love loves you back enough to be with you. It's not stupid. It's incredibly brave."

"I'm so scared, Quinn," she sobbed, turning into her best friend and letting the tears fall.

"I know you are," Quinn soothed, humming a quiet melody as Brittany slowly relaxed. "How about we go to the post box together and deliver this?" she suggested once she had stopped crying.

Brittany nodded.

* * *

Her heart was hammering. Her palms were sweaty.

_Jesus, this was such a bad idea!_

"Okay, it's half eleven, Britt," Quinn said, squeezing her hand. "I'm gonna go to the end of the pier, okay? Come and find me later."

Brittany just nodded and stared out to the dark ocean. She rested her arms on the walls of the long pier and just lost herself in the never-ending ocean. She glanced down at her watch.

_23:56._

All around her, people were already celebrating the arrival of 2014, even though it hadn't actually happened yet. She tore her eyes away from the endless number of happy couples and tried not to let the ache in her chest overwhelm her. She was pretty sure that she wouldn't show. She'd be left looking like an idiot.

She sighed and stared out at the ocean again and shrugged her shoulders to herself.

_At least now I know. At least now-_

"Hi."

It was soft and she almost didn't hear it, but her ears were so attuned to that voice that she'd pick it up anywhere. She stood up straight and looked to her left.

People all around them started counting down from ten as she simply locked eyes with Santana.


	3. 2014

Fireworks exploded all around them and Brittany swallowed, her eyes never leaving Santana's. She tried desperately to detect what emotion was swirling in those gorgeous dark orbs, but she found that she couldn't. It was frustrating as hell.

Did she take the first step? Should she wait for Santana to? Would she? Just because she'd shown up didn't necessarily mean that she'd be able to step up to the plate.

Her eyes widened slightly and her breathing picked up as Santana moved closer to her.

"Hi," she breathed.

"Hey," Brittany replied, her tone equally soft.

Santana opened her mouth and looked like she wanted to say something, but defeat flashed across her face before her gaze dropped.

She really wanted to take point on this and just grab the love of her life and kiss her senseless. But she couldn't. Not if she wanted to make sure that Santana was ready for a _real_ relationship with her.

The anticipation was killing her.

"Kiss me," she said simply.

Santana's eyes flew up to hers again and the answer was there, clear as day.

Brittany swallowed the painful shattering of her heart and turned away.

"Brittany!" Santana’s voice was desperate.

She stopped but didn't turn to look at Santana. Brittany felt her come up behind her, their bodies close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off Santana’s body.

"I'm trying. I am. I'm…"

Brittany couldn't stand to hear anymore. She quickly walked away, tears starting to blur her vision. She hurriedly wiped them away and shoved her hands deep into her pockets as her shoulders shook from barely controlled sobs.

* * *

She had to forget her. She _had_ to. It had been almost two years since they'd broken up and Santana was still afraid. Her own words from that fateful day came back to her, ringing in her ears as clear as day.

" _I can't wait for you to accept yourself. If you don't do it now, you never will."_

She'd apparently been ready to kiss her before, but a year later, she couldn't. Brittany knew she had to accept that it meant she wouldn't. Ever.

She just wished she knew how _not_ to love Santana Lopez. That would make living a lot easier.

Quinn was a good friend; she didn't once tell Brittany 'I told you so'. She held her as she cried every night for weeks on end. It was worse than when they'd broken up in college. Santana hadn't fought for them then, but Brittany had almost expected her not to.

But this time, Brittany had willingly offered herself up to the woman she loved, the woman who professed to love her back, but obviously didn't love her enough.

Brittany knew that Quinn was at her wits' end. She didn't know what to do with a depressed Brittany. She didn't know what to do with herself either. So she did what any normal heartbroken girl would do. She threw herself into her work.

She worked twelve to fourteen-hour days, barely taking any breaks. The Mayweather account was picking up steam and, thankfully, kept her very busy. She dreaded the day that she didn't have anything to do.

* * *

She managed to remain relatively sane (by her own standards) until mid-April. Her boss called her into his office.

"Brittany, your work on the Mayweather account has been exceptional. They've recently acquired a new legal representative so you'll need to meet with her tomorrow to clarify that everything we've done is in accordance with our contract. It's a formality, unfortunately."

"I understand," Brittany said. "I'll make sure everything is ready."

"Thank you. Brittany?"

She halted in her departure.

"Is…everything alright?"

"Perfectly."

"Okay." He didn't sound very convinced. "I obviously appreciate the time that you're dedicating to your job, but I worry that you're overworking yourself."

"Don't worry about me, sir. I'm keeping healthy. I won't burn out."

"All right. You do have some leave accumulated. Perhaps you should think about taking some time off over the summer. Just to take a break, you know?"

Where would she go? Stay home? Let her mind be overrun with thoughts she didn't want to think? No, thank you.

"I'll think about it, sir."

* * *

Her assistant buzzed her the next morning.

"Miss Lopez is here, Brittany."

She froze. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Santana Lopez? She's the legal representative for the Mayweather account? She does have an appointment."

She doesn't know what to say or what to do. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Of all the places in LA, why did Santana have to become the legal representative of the only account she had?

"Brittany?"

"Just… I need a minute."

"All right. I'll get her some coffee."

She couldn't do it. How was she supposed to go through a fifty-page contract with the woman who had caused her heart to break not once, but _twice_? The woman she dreamed about every single night. The woman she _craved_ with every inch of her body and soul. The woman she would never have.

She had to detach herself. She was Brittany Pierce and she had an appointment with the legal representative of her company's biggest account. That was it. She wouldn't see her as Santana. She was just an appointment.

She took a deep breath and went to open her office door.

"Miss Lopez?" she greeted clearly.

God, she looked amazing. No. _No_ , she didn't. Just an appointment.

"Good morning, Miss Pierce."

She really hoped the formality would continue inside her office. She subtly held her breath as Santana walked past her, knowing that her perfume would be just as intoxicating as she was. As an afterthought, she left her office door opened and walked to the small table on the one side of her large office. Two chairs were set up next to each other. Brittany wished she'd moved them.

"I have the original contract that we signed with Harry Mayweather, as well as any amendments that have been made during the course of our partnership. I also have a blank copy of the contract should you want to take it with you and make any changes. We were pretty thorough though, so I don't think you should have any problems."

She was thankful that her tone remained professional and belied none of the nerves bubbling in her chest.

Santana nodded and placed her briefcase on the table, pulling out her laptop. Brittany just watched her. She needed to do something. She couldn't be idle, especially now.

"If you have any questions, I'll just be at my desk." She turned around before Santana could even open her mouth.

She dove into her work, tuning out Santana sitting a few feet away. The new campaign they'd just started required a lot of research on Brittany's behalf and she was thankful to keep busy.

"Miss Pierce?"

Brittany looked up.

"Um, may I have a glass of water?" she asked meekly.

Brittany glanced at her watch. They'd been in the same room for two hours already. She stood up.

"I'm sorry, of course. I'll make sure you get something to eat as well."

"That's not necessary."

Brittany simply waved her protests away and walked out of her office to her secretary's desk and requested some lunch to be brought up from the building's cafeteria.

She walked back to her own desk and saw Santana watching her out of her peripheral vision but didn't dare meet her gaze. Thankfully, her phone provided a distraction.

"Hello?"

"Britt, we've got a problem. The design programme for the posters and billboards just crashed."

"What? When?"

"About five minutes ago."

"Have you called Brad?"

"Yeah, he just got here. I have a feeling we may have lost everything."

"Shit," she breathed. "Okay, let me make a few calls. I'll be there as soon as I can."

She dialled her emergency IT guy. He was a whiz with any programme and she needed a miracle.

"Hey, Greg. I have a huge problem. Do you have a few hours to spare?" She nibbled on her pinkie finger as she chatted.

"I'm going to see what backups I have on my side. Maybe we'll get lucky and not have to start from scratch."

She smiled at Greg's easy-going attitude.

"You're awesome. See you soon."

She fired off an email to her boss, apprising him of the situation and that she had it under control. He liked to keep tabs.

If Greg couldn't save them, the last three months' of hard work was gone and they'd have to start from scratch. And for the first time since landing the account, she wouldn't meet a deadline.

"Is everything all right?"

Brittany simply nodded. "It's under control."

"Will it affect the deadline?"

Her eyes snapped to Santana's.

"It might."

"Then perhaps we need to revise this clause," Santana suggested, holding up a page of the contract.

"Why?"

"Because it means you'd lose the account if you don't meet the deadline."

"What? I don't remember that?" Brittany stood up and walked over to the table.

"It looks like it was added in at the last minute. Knowing Harry's brother, it was probably him. He's an ass."

Brittany hummed her agreement as she perused the document carefully. She closed her eyes as letters started switching in her mind.

"Dammit," she swore softly.

Sometimes, she had trouble keeping a hold of her dyslexia. It would just spring up and she'd find it difficult to make sense of a simple document, no matter how many times she read it.

"I can read it to you?"

"It's fine," she said shortly, taking a few deep breaths and trying to calm her thoughts.

Five minutes later, she had understood the clause and was leaning on the table as she thought. Eventually, she knew that this was something she wouldn't be able to handle on her own. She went back to her desk and dialled her friend, Vanessa, their company's legal rep.

"Hey, Nessie, are you busy? Do you think you could come up to my office? We have a bit of a legal situation."

Her secretary walked in with two bottles of water and some sandwiches. Brittany remained at her desk and focused on the new problem. She could feel Santana looking at her, and once again, she was grateful for the distraction that work provided.

* * *

"So this will protect us should we not meet the deadline?" Brittany asked nervously. It was all terribly up in the air for her. She hated all the 'what ifs' that had been thrown around between the two lawyers over the last hour. She was pretty sure she'd lose her job if she lost the account. And she needed her job more than ever. She needed to work so that she didn't think about the beautiful woman sitting in her office, draining the last of her water.

_Ugh! Stop looking at her. You're a glutton for punishment._

"I'm going to the floor," Brittany announced. "Nessie, you'll wrap things up here?"

She nodded and Santana looked poised to say something else, but Brittany didn't give her the chance, grabbing her phone and walking out without a backwards glance.

She collapsed into her desk chair and glanced at her watch.

 _22:02_.

She'd pulled a sixteen-hour day and had pretty much saved her job. Greg, her super techie, had swooped in and worked some serious superhero mojo. They'd recovered the lost files and were back on track with Mayweather's latest campaign.

_Thank God._

She was exhausted and quickly logged out, turning everything off and shrugging into her jacket. She put her phone into her pocket and froze when she felt an unfamiliar piece of paper. She sat down before she pulled it out, half-fearing that it was what she expected.

Another letter, this time written on a piece of the legal pad she'd seen Santana with.

_Brittany,_

_I know you must hate me. And I promise that I didn't orchestrate this to torture you. It was a simple coincidence._

_Regardless, I am glad that I got to see you again. I didn't think I ever would after New Year’s. Brittany…I want you – no, I NEED you to understand that I wanted to kiss you more than anything. But I don't want to give you false hope. I want to completely be that person for you. I can't give you part of me again. You deserve all of me. If you even still want me._

_Faith thinks that me meeting you on New Year’s was a mistake. Maybe it was? It's not like we needed another reminder how fucked I am and how much I hurt you. How much I still hurt you. God, I wish that I could accept this about myself. I wish so much that I could snap my fingers and be ok with everything. I know, Brittany, same old story. I know…_

_The next step for me is to tell my parents. This is something I've been putting off for months. It's the main reason I didn't kiss you. When I do finally get that opportunity (if you'll let me), I want it to be without anything or anyone holding me back, especially myself. You know that my parents are a big catalyst of my fear. But I have to tell them. Fuck, I've been saying that since last year. I wish I could say that my actions speak louder than my words, but with us…words are all we have right now._

_It kills me that I hurt you again. My cowardice is going to drive you so far away from me that when I finally accept myself, you'll be gone. You'll be gone and I'm going to be alone. I suppose that will be my punishment._

_I have no right whatsoever to ask this of you, Brittany, and I know that, but I'm going to anyway. Will you wait for me? I can't tell you how long you'll have to wait, but would you anyway? Being around you today, even though you couldn't even look at me, made me realise how much I need you. I need you to look at me so I'm asking you to wait for me to show you that you can trust me again._

_I'm so proud of you for what you've accomplished. People respect you here and they all love you. Everyone that I spoke to only had good things to say about you. But that should be obvious; after all, you're you. Who wouldn't love you?_

_Okay, I've wasted enough of your time. There are so many more things that I want to tell you, but all the paper in the world won't be enough. So I'll start small: I love you, Brittany Pierce. I have since I was fifteen and I will never stop. And one day, hopefully soon, I'm going to kiss you in front of the world._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

"That's not fair!" Brittany shouted angrily, throwing the letter down on her desk. "Fuck it, Santana. You can't keep doing this to me!" She dropped her head onto her arms and burst into tears.

* * *

Any further legal liaisons with the Mayweather account went through Vanessa, as per Brittany's request. She didn't want to see Santana anymore. The letter she'd left behind had only reminded Brittany of how selfish she was. How could she expect Brittany to wait for her? _Again_? She'd done it in high school, in college, at New Year’s, and every single time she'd ended up hurt. And Santana had the gall to ask her wait longer?

 _No. Not this time_. She'd learnt her lesson.

She managed to meet her deadline with the new campaign and her boss was pleased, giving her a raise and asking if she wouldn't mind taking on another account, seeing how Mayweather was flourishing under her supervision.

Brittany accepted. If she ate, slept and dreamt work that was fine with her.

* * *

She wasn't exactly sure how it happened. Maybe it was because she'd seen Santana leaving the building as she was returning after lunch with Quinn, maybe it was the celebration that Mayweather threw for her and her team on their biggest monthly turnover thanks in large part to their very successful campaign. Maybe it was because she was frighteningly lonely. Maybe it was because she was drunk. Very, very drunk.

Moans came from both their mouths as she pushed Brittany up against the sink in the bathroom. There were gasps of pleasure and nails raking over skin aplenty as both scrambled to rid themselves of their clothes, desperate to feel skin on skin contact.

"Brittany," the woman gasped as she bit hard onto her shoulder.

She returned the bite, soothing it with her tongue, causing Brittany to hum in approval. They worked in sync, fingers moving quickly and soon Brittany was shaking in pleasure.

They dressed quickly, stealing one last kiss before unlocking the bathroom door and returning to the party. She knew Santana's eyes were on her the moment she returned to the room, but she glanced back at Vanessa, who simply sent her a sultry wink before heading back to the bar.

* * *

Neither of them was looking for a relationship but having sex a few times a week released a lot of tension that Brittany hadn't even realised she'd been carrying.

Quinn didn't approve of her arrangement with Vanessa, unsurprisingly, but Brittany was beyond caring. She dealt any way she could if it meant that she didn't see, hear from or think about Santana.

For her twenty-fifth birthday, she decided to throw a party. She invited everyone from work and some people she'd met at Mayweather. She did not invite Santana. Her and Quinn's apartment was full and music was blaring. Brittany was playing beer pong with her team and steadily becoming less lucid.

She saw Quinn making out with some guy on the couch and found herself being pressed up against a wall next to her bedroom as she fumbled her way to the bathroom.

"Took you long enough," she grinned.

"Shut up," Vanessa smirked, crashing their lips together.

She woke up the following morning alone, but it didn't matter. She didn't feel abandoned. Her arrangement with Vanessa was one without any romantic feelings and that suited Brittany just fine. She didn't feel abandoned because she didn't feel. It was easy. Much easier than it had been with Santana. And the sex was great.

She was drinking coffee and glancing through the classifieds as she always did when a small ad caught her eye.

_Brittany,_

_I told them. Even though I know I'm too late, I hope you have an amazing birthday._

_All my love,_

_Always,_

_Santana_

She dropped the coffee mug and the sound of it shattering brought a half-dressed Quinn rushing out of her room.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Brittany simply shook her head. She'd never be okay because no matter how much she tried to forget Santana, she always found a way to remind her that she would always be there, taunting and tempting her.

It needed to stop.

* * *

She was polishing off the final touches on a presentation to her new account when the tone for an IM sounded from her computer. She walked to her desk and sat down. Her hands froze over the keys when she saw who the IM was from.

 **Santana Lopez:** Hi.

She swallowed, thoughts running over in her head, before she put her hands against her desk, pushed her chair away and stood up, going back to the table where she'd spread out her work.

The same thing happened the next day, and the day after, and the day after that, and Brittany ignored every single one.

After a month, she deleted the app from her computer. She had to move on. It was too late for her and Santana.

* * *

Her company had been nominated for an award and her boss had requested that Brittany represent them at the gala dinner. She rummaged around her closet but couldn't find her black heels. Then she remembered that Lord Tubbington had confessed to hiding them in Quinn's closet because they made her too tall and he didn't like that.

She found them, hiding in their box and pulled it out, accidentally kicking over a stack of other boxes.

"Oops," she muttered, dropping her shoes on Quinn's bed and she knelt down to pick up the fallen contents. The bottom box contained a stack of letters. Brittany rolled her eyes. Her best friend was a sentimental hoarder. She happened to glance at the writing and her breath caught in her throat as she saw Santana's handwriting on every single envelope. And they were addressed to her. She counted thirty-nine envelopes. It had been thirty-nine days since her birthday.

"Quinn!" she bellowed.

"What? What?" she asked, rushing in.

"You did it again?" she asked incredulously, holding up the stack of letters. "Fuck it, Quinn! I'm supposed to be able to trust you! You're my best friend!"

"Britt, you're doing so well," Quinn said desperately. "You're moving on. I was afraid that any more letters from her would set you back."

"That was _always_ my decision to make, and mine alone," Brittany growled angrily. "I'm not some fucking child that you need to baby. And I'm _sick_ of you doing it all the time."

"Brittany, I'm sorry," Quinn begged. "It was wrong, I realise that. I was trying to-"

"Control me," Brittany snapped. "You're trying to control my emotions."

"I just don't want to see you hurt anymore," she mumbled.

"That's _my_ choice! If I didn't want to read these, I wouldn't have opened them. But you never gave me that choice. Stay out of my life, Quinn!"

She grabbed her shoes and stormed out, slamming her door so hard that the walls shook. She sat down on her bed and arranged the letters in the order they were sent. Then she restacked them with the first one on top and put them in the drawer where the rest of Santana's letters were kept.

She reinstalled the IM app at work the next day and it wasn't long before she got a message.

 **Santana Lopez:** Hi.

She had a response prepared.

 **Brittany Pierce:** I didn't know that you were sending me letters. Quinn kept them from me, but I found them last night. I haven't opened them and I don't know if I even want to.

Half an hour passed before she got a response.

 **Santana Lopez:** I hope you do read them, but I understand why you wouldn't want to.

Brittany didn't know what to say so she didn't reply.

* * *

She lasted till October before her curiosity got the better of her. She left work at a relatively normal hour and poured herself a large glass of red before shutting herself in her bedroom. Quinn knew better than to interrupt her. She'd never given her best friend the silent treatment for so long. She took a long sip from her wine glass before reaching into her bedside drawer and pulling out the stack of letters. They'd grown as Santana had continued to send a letter every day, even after she'd found out that Brittany wasn't reading them.

_Brittany,_

_I write to you as I'm crying. It's not fair, I know – I deserve to be treated like this. I brought this pain upon myself and I accept it freely. But I never believed the pain that I felt could run this deep._

_Today is your birthday. Twenty-five years of life. I feel so privileged to have spent five of those amazing twenty-five years with you. And for the next seventy-five years, I wish you only the best, with all the love and happiness that you deserve. Because you do deserve that, Brittany. You, more than anyone on this planet, deserve to be loved so much that you will never go a day without being shown how special, how precious, how amazing you really are._

_I suppose I know the answer to my question back in April. I knew it was wishful thinking. In hindsight, it was completely unfair of me to ask you to wait for me. Obviously, I would have loved it if you did, but maybe it's good that you didn't. Or that you aren't. Maybe it's good thing that I'm learning to accept myself without you. Because I know that I have to live with myself for the rest of my life, whether you are by my side or not._

_I wonder if you saw the ad I posted in the classifieds. I reached a milestone yesterday, Brittany. I told my parents that I'm gay. It's only ten years overdue, but their reaction only further showed me that if I continued living my life in hope of their approval, I'll never get it. My parents expect perfection and I am far from perfect. Once upon a time, I thought that I was, but that was when you used to look at me with your beautiful blue eyes with all the love in the world and tell me that we were perfect for each other._

_I desperately hope that part of you still believes that. It may be a fruitless hope, but I'll let it burn nonetheless. You may be with someone else, but my love still lingers. The sad thing is, I can't even offer you my friendship. Because I don't want a friendship with you, Brittany. I want EVERYTHING with you. And I'm afraid I can't settle for less than that._

_I'm the most selfish person in the history of the world because now I'm offering myself to you when I rejected you so many times. I'm ready to be with you, Brittany Pierce, in every way you wanted us. I want to take you out on glamorous dates, I want to hold your hand as we walk around the city, I want to be able to turn to you and kiss you anytime and anywhere I want._

_But I accept that I'm too late. I'm not sorry that I've reached this point, though. I've completely accepted that I am a twenty-four-year-old gay woman who has been disowned by her parents and has been hopelessly in love with one girl for almost ten years. And I'm not sorry for any of it._

_Reason #1: You are my first and my only love._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

She'd done it. She'd finally become the person that Brittany had always known she could be. She'd come out completely and risked everything. For her.

Brittany swallowed the lump in her throat and set the first letter aside, picking up the next letter and opening it with shaking hands.

_Brittany,_

_Do you believe in fate? I think I do. Well, I believe that sometimes things are out of our control. Like how we fell in love. We never planned it, well I definitely didn't. I certainly knew that you were special the moment I met you. And I knew that you would be special to me. I could never in a million years ever have guessed how special you would become to me. The MOST special._

_Reason #2: I will always wait for you._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

The succeeding letters continued in similar fashion, with little titbits from their past with a reason why Santana loved her. By the tenth letter, Brittany was sobbing, her vision completely obscured by the tears streaming from her eyes.

By the twentieth letter, she had stopped crying, but her heart had begun a familiar ache. An ache that she knew would be soothed by one person.

Only, Brittany was the one who was scared.

* * *

She arrived home the Monday before Thanksgiving and found a letter waiting on the counter for her. If Quinn got the post before she did, she made sure that Brittany saw Santana's letter for the day. They still hadn't spoken.

_Brittany,_

_Why don't you dance anymore? You loved it in high school and you even took some evening classes when we were in college. I know you don't dance anymore because you'd have to not sleep in order to do that. I only leave work when I see you log out of the IM app. So I know that you stay at the office longer than even my boss. And he practically lives in his office. I miss watching you dance. I miss watching the happiness that it brought to your face. I wonder if you miss it too…_

_Reason #76: Your body is a wonderland. Your body is a wonder._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

She pressed her hands against the counter and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and let the many reasons Santana had listed and she'd unwittingly memorised run through her mind.

How could Santana think so many things about her and have _never_ told her? Never once made her feel the kind of special that she was so adamant Brittany was?

She'd stopped sleeping with Vanessa once she'd started reading the letters. Even though she knew it wasn't cheating, it kind of felt like it was. It was like she and Santana had a relationship through letters. A very unhealthy, dependent and intense relationship. Santana's birthday was in three weeks and Brittany knew she owed her a letter. Well, she didn't exactly _owe_ her a letter, but she knew Santana expected one. And she felt that she kind of deserved it.

Brittany had never been more wooed in her life and it was starting to really affect her. She found herself looking up to the counter the second she got home, she reread all of Santana's letters over and over again, she would sometimes reply to Santana's IM messages just to see her say something else.

It wasn't really a big wake-up call when, after calling her mom to wish her Happy Thanksgiving, her mother calmly told her that she was head over heels in love with Santana and that maybe it was time to take the plunge again.

"Mom, I've done that twice. And look where it got me."

"I understand, Bumblebee. But on the other hand, look where it got _her_."

"I don't get it."

"She's ready. She's said she is. She's waiting for you. She's done the scariest thing there is for her to do _for you_."

"But I never wanted her to do that for me!" Brittany said in exasperation. "That's one thing I keep mulling over. I wanted her to do this for her. It's great that she has, really. But if she did it for me then has she really accepted _herself_?"

"Well, hasn't she said that she has? Didn't she tell you that she knew that she might need to learn to live without you and thereby learning to live with herself and the decisions she's made?"

Brittany sighed. "This is such a complicated mess."

"Honey, that's love."

"Yeah, love is a complicated mess."

"It wouldn't be real if it wasn't," Mrs. Pierce said.

"I suppose."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

"Brittany, could I please talk to you?" Quinn asked softly, knocking on her bedroom door.

She glanced up at her best friend and held her gaze for a good few minutes before shuffling over on her bed to make space for Quinn.

They lay watching the TV mounted against the wall in silence before Brittany rested her head on Quinn's shoulder, silently forgiving her. She immediately felt Quinn relax and allowed their hands to intertwine. At least one relationship in her life was making sense again.

"What are you going to do?" Quinn asked quietly.

"I don't know," Brittany sighed. "I love her, I do. And I miss her. She's been so wonderful and she's more than making up for keeping up a secret."

"So what's stopping you?"

"I'm scared."

"Well, of course you're scared!"

"Huh?"

"Britt, I'd be worried if you weren't. Besides your history, this is true love we're talking about. It's fucking terrifying! Completely giving yourself to someone else? Hell, I don't know anyone who wasn't scared at the beginning. But for those lucky few who do find their perfect match, I bet they're really glad that they stood up to that fear and went for it anyway."

"You think?"

"There's a reason they're called soulmates, Britt. It doesn't matter what happens, your souls are forever connected. After the last three years, look at you two. Still completely in love with each other and you finally have a chance to be together. Completely together."

Brittany sighed. "I'm still thinking."

"Don't think too hard. You've closed your heart off for a long time now. Maybe you should think with that instead?"

"The last time I did that, we slept together and I didn't hear from her again for over a month."

"Okay, I'm not saying go over and bang each other's brains out right now-"

"I thought we were like sisters and you didn't like hearing about my sex life," Brittany teased.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Give her the opportunity to show you that she's ready. That's all I'm suggesting."

"Quinn, if she can't…if she bails on me again…I can't…I don't know how I'll get past it. I don't know if I'll be able to."

"I understand that. But you know you'll have me. And your mom and dad will always be there for you. We'll help you." She paused. "But something tells me we may not need to this time."

"How would you know?" Brittany asked suspiciously.

"I haven't read the letters," Quinn said quickly, holding her hands up. "I promise I haven't. But your mom may have called me."

"God, the two of you," Brittany muttered in irritation.

"I know you hate it and that's why I didn't say anything. I just want to give my opinion and you can take it as you will. I don't want to force you to do what I think you should. But, for the record, I think you should see what she has to offer you."

She sighed. "I know what she has to offer me."

"Yeah? What?"

"Perfection."

* * *

_I’m actually putting myself through this torture again. I can’t fucking believe it._

"I'll be at the end of the pier," Quinn said, squeezing her shoulder. "I have a really good feeling about this, Britt."

"That makes one of us," she mumbled.

Quinn kissed her cheek before walking away, leaving Brittany to once again stare out at the dark ocean as the waves lapped onto the shore.

"Hey, you look way too pretty to be alone on New Year's Eve," a voice slurred next to her.

Brittany raised an eyebrow at the high school kid trying to put moves on her.

"Run along, Junior."

"Actually, I'm a senior," he boasted.

"In high school, numbnuts," Brittany added, flicking his school badge on the arm of his letterman jacket. "I repeat, run along."

"But who are you gonna kiss at midnight?" he asked.

"Me."

She whipped around and saw Santana standing next to her, a shy smile on her face.

"No way!" the jock laughed.

"Back the fuck off, Junior. Get the message that you don't have _anything_ worth a second more of her time. Now, be a good boy and go practice safe sex by fucking yourself."

Brittany couldn't help the smirk that crossed her face at Santana's public defence of her. She'd never done it before.

Santana moved to stand right next to her. Brittany’s skin prickled at the proximity.

"Hi."

"Hey."

They stood staring at each other, Santana's smile growing with each passing second.

"Kiss me."

Brittany raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"I don't think it's gonna work like that, Santana."

She shrugged. "Okay."

Brittany's face fell. Was this some kind of joke to her? The countdown began around them and she swallowed hard, looking out at the ocean. As the crowd hit 'five', she turned around and walked away, not believing that Santana could actually break her heart for a third time.

A hand gripped her wrist and spun her around before she could fight it. She found herself pressed tightly against Santana's body, one hand around her neck and the other resting on her wrist, slowly dropping to link their fingers. The sensation left Brittany breathless, so when fireworks started exploding around them and Santana brought her face down so that their lips could meet, she was pretty sure she'd died and gone to heaven.


	4. 2015

Brittany was breathless. And in the best way possible. Santana was kissing her. _Santana was kissing her_. In public. And it wasn't a shy peck on the cheek either. It was the kind of passionate kiss that they'd only ever shared in the privacy of their rooms and on that one magical night a year and a half ago.

Somehow, their hands had disentangled from each other and started gripping clothing. Brittany had Santana's jacket fisted in her right hand whilst her left hand was comfortably buried in dark locks, anchoring their lips together.

Santana's right hand remained on Brittany's neck, whilst her left hand was inside Brittany’s jacket, her fingers softly trailing up and down the side of her shirt. It was enough for her to shiver every few seconds.

Brittany didn't know how long they'd been kissing for and she didn't care. She just didn't want to let go.

The need for oxygen forced their lips apart. Santana rested her forehead against Brittany's and breathed heavily.

"That was about eight years overdue," she whispered. "Britt, I am _so_ sorry."

She just nodded. Brushing off Santana's apologies would simply set them back. She had been wrong. She had treated Brittany like shit and pretending that she hadn't would just throw them fifteen steps backwards.

She swallowed as the blood pumping from her heart started to slow down.

"This was amazing, Santana, really. I can't even express to you how much it means to me."

"But…?"

She sighed. "But we've got a long way to go before we're ready for a relationship again."

Santana nodded in understanding. "Of course, Britt. Whatever you need. I get it. You need to see how comfortable I am with myself and whether we can realistically have a long-term relationship."

Brittany's curiosity was spiked. "Is that what you want?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Santana simply smiled. "Brittany, I want everything with you. And I want it with only you. When I think about my future, you're there, in every frame."

She held her breath. As amazing as those words had been on paper, to hear Santana speak them out loud was just…breathtaking. She was floored and felt her love simply grow.

"I love you."

Santana kissed her cheek softly. "And I love you. So, so very much, Britt. I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realise that you are worth everything."

"It was necessary."

Santana nodded against her cheek. "Yeah."

"I should go," Brittany said eventually with a heavy sigh. She didn't want to. She wanted to stay wrapped up in Santana forever.

"Could I get your number?" Santana asked shyly, averting Brittany's gaze.

She blinked. There stood two women completely in love with each other and they didn't even have each other's phone numbers. Their courtship had definitely been…interesting. It occurred to Brittany that Santana could easily have gotten her number from anyone at her office, and the fact that she hadn't simply increased the respect that she had for the journey Santana had undergone.

Brittany pulled her phone out and handed it to her. She punched in her number and quickly called it so that she had Brittany's number.

"We're gonna do this right," Santana whispered, slipping her arms around Brittany's neck again. "I'm going to make you trust me. I want you to see that I'm serious."

Brittany just nodded. "We need to take this slow. A lot has happened in three years, San."

"I know. Even if we continue writing to each other as opposed to seeing each other, I'll do that."

"You don't wanna see me?" Brittany asked in alarm.

"No, of course I do!" Santana exclaimed with a surprised smile. "More than anything. I want to spend every second with you. But I also don't want to rush this." She brushed her cheek against Brittany's affectionately. "We have our whole lives ahead of us. So if it takes us a while, then I'm cool with that."

She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face so she buried it in the crook of Santana's neck. She was saying _all_ the right things. A small part of Brittany wondered how genuine she was, if she maybe hadn't lifted them from some cheesy Hallmark card or a shitty romcom.

But then she started whispering in Spanish in Brittany's ear and her knees started to feel like jelly. Santana speaking Spanish was like liquid sex. She _loved_ it.

"Not fair," she mumbled.

She felt Santana giggle softly. "I only told you to have a great New Year’s and that next year we'll be spending all night and day together."

The grin was back and Brittany wrapped her arms tighter around Santana, burying her face deeper into her neck. She was overwhelmed with the scent of Santana and it felt like home.

* * *

She rolled her eyes at Quinn sitting nervously on the couch when she let herself in a little after one am.

"Hi!" she squeaked.

Brittany just laughed.

"So, it went well? I mean, it looked like it was. Going well, I mean. You know, from what I saw. N-not that I was spying or anything cos ew, gross. I wasn't like stalking-"

"Quinn, shut up."

She clamped her mouth closed.

"It was amazing. And very worth the risk."

Quinn grinned widely and Brittany matched it before walking into her bedroom. She got dressed and climbed into her bed, holding her Argentine bird close to her. Her eyes fluttered closed but flew open at the sound of her phone vibrating on the table next to her bed.

_I'm counting this as Day 1. It's the first day of a journey that I am so looking forward to taking with you, Brittany. I love you. Sweet dreams. Love, Santana._

She grinned again. She wondered if it was always going to be like this from now on. Would she have a perpetual grin on her face because the love of her life was being super romantic and loving _all the time_? She didn't actually care, really.

Her phone buzzed again.

_Sorry, forgot my first 2015 reason. Your smell is as intoxicating as ever. I could live off smelling you. And yes, I do realise how creepy that sounded. But it's the truth ;) San xxx_

Screw it. The grins were welcome.

* * *

They slipped into an easy routine pretty quickly. True to their word of taking things slow, they met once a week, never on a Friday or Saturday because having work the next day was always a deterrent to them getting carried away.

Brittany was on cloud nine. Santana was courting her like in those really old movies she'd watched with her grandmother that summer before high school. They split the bill whenever they went out to dinner because Brittany was adamant that she didn't need charity and Santana respected that without complaint. After being so independent for three years, she didn't want to lapse back into her Santana co-dependency.

The best part? Santana's letters continued. They'd become weekly letters as opposed to daily ones because they texted and IM'd all the time. But that perpetual grin on Brittany's face always widened when she saw the familiar white envelope awaiting her on the kitchen counter every Monday when she got home from work.

Santana had only stopped by Brittany's offices twice since New Year’s and she was partially glad for it because Santana was nothing but a distraction now that they were sort of together again. Her co-workers noticed the remarkable change in her demeanour and pressed her about it, but she kept quiet. She felt like she and Santana were a well-kept secret and that if she publicised them too much that it would simply bring bad luck. And she definitely didn't need any bad luck when everything seemed to finally be clicking into place.

She didn't really expect much when Valentine's Day rolled around. She honestly felt that it was simply retailers' way of milking money out of the gullible masses. It probably wasn’t an ideal perspective for someone in advertising but Brittany didn’t let her personal beliefs affect her job. She believed that someone shouldn’t need a contrived holiday to show their partner how much they loved them. She and Santana had rediscovered their love months away from February fourteenth.

When she arrived at her office and saw her desk covered in lilacs, she still grinned. Clearly Santana had a different opinion about Valentine's Day. As she took in the delicious scent of her favourite flower, she decided that maybe Valentine's Day wasn't _that_ bad.

* * *

The third anniversary of their breakup gave Brittany mixed feelings. She and Santana were doing great. Really great, actually. But she couldn't help being reminded of that agonising day. Yeah, they'd come pretty much full circle since then, but she couldn't forget the hurt, the abandonment she'd felt.

Santana could tell something was off and if she realised why, she didn't say. Instead, she rocked up at Brittany's door armed with a shy smile and dinner. Quinn immediately made herself scarce and Brittany was thankful that her best friend was being so supportive when she's kept Santana's letters hidden from her for over a month. Talk about a change in tune…

"Do you want a massage?" Santana asked as she stirred the sauce she was making.

"Huh?"

Santana smiled. "A massage. You're tense."

"No, I'm not." She didn't know why she'd just lied. Santana's pointed look told her that she'd been caught out anyway. She ducked her head shamefully.

"You're hunching your shoulders," Santana argued. "Your posture has always been so graceful and strong."

Brittany just shrugged. What the hell did she say to that?

The silence between them was comfortable, but there was definitely something unknown hanging over them. Brittany knew that Santana had picked up on it and was simply waiting for them to have dinner before bringing it up. She was grateful that Santana knew her so well…sometimes.

Sure enough, once Santana had deposited the empty plates in the dishwasher and they'd settled onto the couch to finish their wine, her dark eyes found Brittany's and held them.

"Are you still scared?"

Brittany lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. She didn't really know why she was suddenly feeling so apprehensive. Was it because things were going so well and she was afraid she'd wake up and find it had all been a dream? That Santana didn't love her and come over and make her dinner and send her huge bouquets of flowers and write beautiful letters?

"Britt." Santana leaned across the space between them and took her hand, simply holding it. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and this is real. I know that you dreamed of this, of me accepting myself and us, for so long. I don't blame you for second guessing it."

Brittany frowned. "But it's silly."

"No," Santana replied thoughtfully. "It's normal. Especially considering how I treated you."

Brittany sighed and the silence resumed.

"I haven't…have I given you a reason to be scared?" Santana asked quietly.

Brittany's heart constricted. She didn't want Santana to be sad.

"No, you've been so wonderful," she whispered, turning her hand over so that their fingers linked. "So wonderful."

"Do you…do you want to slow down?"

Brittany shook her head. "If we go any slower, we'd be moving backwards." Neither of them laughed at her poor joke.

_I hate this. Santana did such a lovely thing. Why can’t these stupid insecurities just fuck off?_

Brittany loved her. God, she loved her _so_ much. Every moment with Santana was amazing, every word she wrote Brittany whether it was on paper, via text or IM set her heart racing. It was everything she'd dreamed of for years, especially over the last few months. So why the fuck was she acting so chickenshit now?

"Britt," Santana said softly.

Their eyes met again and Brittany sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"It's me this time. You've done everything I ever asked you to do. But now I'm the one that's scared. But I don't know _why_! It doesn't make sense!"

The silence was now incredible awkward.

"Maybe we do need to dial it back," Santana suggested after a while. "Maybe this is moving too quickly for you?"

"What?"

"Britt, I'm not breaking up with you or anything, I promise. God, no, I could never let you go." Santana shook her head for emphasis. "But I am willing to give you more space. I can stop with the texts and IMs. We don't have to go on dates. I can wait until you're ready."

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Why couldn't she speak?

_Say no, dammit! Tell her that you don't want her to go anywhere!_

But she couldn't.

Santana nodded and the hurt that she tried to mask almost killed Brittany, yet her stupid brain still wouldn't act. Santana gently let go of Brittany's hand and stood up, leaving her half-full wine glass on the table. Brittany simply sat, hating her body and her mind for being so unresponsive. She felt catatonic and out of control and she couldn't stand it.

"Let me know, okay, Britt?" Santana said from behind her.

Somehow, her brain told her head to nod. Tears started streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably as she felt Santana's lips against her neck.

"I love you."

And then she was gone.

And this time, it was all Brittany's fault.

* * *

Quinn found her on her bed, sobbing. She couldn't get her to say anything though, so she simply held her close, no doubt wondering what on earth could have happened to send Brittany into an exact replica of herself three years before – to the day.

The rest of the week was very quiet. Brittany didn't say anything other than a mumbled good morning or good night. Her phone didn't chime every twenty minutes like it had for the last three months.

Brittany was really, _really_ scared that, come Monday, there wouldn't be a white envelope waiting for her when she came home from work. It terrified her. If there wasn't, she was almost certain that Santana had probably realised that she wasn't worth the trouble. After all she had demanded of Santana, what had she done? Gone and thrown all her hard work back in her face.

She hated herself.

She paused, her key in the lock. She stared at her front door for a good few minutes before it opened for her. Quinn looked at her with a curious frown. Brittany couldn't stop her eyes flickering to the counter and her heart soared. The familiar white envelope lay, enticing her.

She flew across the room, leaving Quinn even more bewildered and grabbed the letter. Normally she read Santana's letters in her bedroom, but her heart was pulsating harder than she'd ever felt it before. She forced her body to calm itself as she pulled the letter out of the envelope.

_Brittany, my love,_

_No matter what, I will never leave you. I realise that you're going through a personal crisis and it kills me that I know I can't help you with it. I know that this is something you need to do yourself. I wish that I could be there for you, though. I wish that so much._

_I made the biggest mistake of my life three years ago. I didn't run after you. I didn't stop you. I think it was because I knew that I deserved it. Everything you told me was completely true. I was the one that was scared then._

_And now you're scared. And that's fine. Brittany, please believe that I will wait for you forever. FOREVER. Even if it's in another three years, ten years, twenty years, I don't care. You know how I feel. Just try and remember that when those seeds of doubt start planting themselves in your mind, okay? I know that my track record doesn't count in my favour, but I made you a promise. And out of all the promises I have made you (and broken) and all the promises I will make you in the future, this is one that I will honestly die to keep._

_I promised that I will love you forever. And I intend to do just that._

_I miss you, Britt. I miss you more than I thought I could. Our constant communication made me realise how much I need you in my life, even if I'm not with you physically. I need to be connected to you. I mean, I will always be connected to you, but I need that feeling, you know?_

_Ugh. That probably made no sense. But since that very first letter I sent you, I haven't written more than one draft. You deserve my original thoughts without a filter or revision._

_Reason #146: Only you know who I really am._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

She was stupid. Probably the stupidest person on the planet _ever_. The love of her life constantly confessed her undying love and devotion to her and showered her with affection and adoration, yet those stupid seeds of doubt wouldn't leave her alone.

There was something wrong with her.

* * *

She finally took some of her leave days to head back to Lima for her mother's fiftieth birthday. Mrs. Pierce could tell straight away that something was up.

"Come on, Bumblebee. I need help figuring out my presents."

She pulled her inside the house and they wandered into the kitchen. Brittany sat on the counter like she had during their last heart-to-heart.

"I thought things were going well?" Mrs. Pierce began gently.

"They were." A tear rolled down her cheek. "They were going so well. And then my stupid insecurities went and screwed everything up."

"What are you scared of?"

"I don't know!" she cried in desperation. "I wish I fucking knew."

Her mother let the profanity slide.

"Ignore it," she said instead.

"What?"

"Ignore your stupid insecurities, as you call them. You know she loves you and you love her. You two are meant to be."

Brittany focused on the marble tabletop.

"I know you said that you were taking things slowly, but maybe you were taking things too slowly and that's how those insecurities crept in," Mrs. Pierce suggested.

"Mom, I can't exactly go back to LA and just jump back into bed with her. It… That's not how we are now." She sighed. "I'm not even sure _what_ we even are now."

"You're soulmates," Mrs. Pierce said simply. "You can't live without each other so why torture yourself by trying to?"

"You think we should move into together?" she asked in alarm.

Her mother rolled her eyes. "No. I mean that you shouldn't be scared to take the plunge with her. From what you told me about New Year’s, it was magical. But then you kind of pushed that magic away and tried to slow down when maybe you needed to just let things happen."

"Mom, you're confusing me."

Mrs. Pierce paused, gathering her thoughts. "Bumblebee, not everything in life needs to be controlled. Especially love. Love should be spontaneous, joyful, impulsive, unexpected. It sounds like you were trying to control the pace at which you two fell in love again."

"I…hmmm…"

Mrs. Pierce left her daughter to stew and went back outside to her party.

* * *

She let the fear talk her out of calling or texting Santana for two weeks after she got back to LA. Two whole weeks. Brittany was on the verge of driving herself crazy.

She started extending her hours at the office again. Santana's letters were still as beautiful and loving as ever and it only made Brittany feel worse about herself.

Almost a full two months of not seeing Santana came around and Quinn was about to shake Brittany out of the depression she'd slumped into. Nothing would shake her. She'd sit in her room every night, rereading the massive pile of letters over and over again.

She was torturing herself. She didn't know why, but at the same time she did.

Jesus, she really was fucked up.

* * *

June had just started and Brittany was stumbling home after a sixteen-hour day. She was exhausted and she simply felt the urge to curl up with her bird and cry until she fell asleep. Some days the emotions crept up on her and she couldn't control them. She hated those days, but also appreciated them because they showed her that she wasn't a completely heartless bitch. She still had a semblance of feelings.

The apartment was dark. Quinn had probably stayed late at work too or was already in bed. She dropped her purse on the floor next to her bedroom door and flopped onto her bed face down. Her hand reached up for her bird, but she felt something she definitely didn't expect.

The shape of a body. A body that was slowly stirring.

Brittany jumped up and fumbled against the wall for the light switch. The room was illuminated and her eyes went wide.

"What are you doing here?"

Santana's sleepy eyes blinked quickly to adjust. "I miss you, Brittany. I don't want to be away from you anymore." She sighed and sat up, the sheets bunching around her legs. "Whatever is going on in that head of yours, I want to help you through it. I've been thinking a lot over the last few months and I realised that if you're scared, maybe you need me to help you get over that fear. I don't know if you're scared of me or of us, but it's not something you should go through alone." Her eyes lifted to meet Brittany's. "I need you," she whispered.

She swallowed. Santana was there. She was in her bed. Her _bed_. She'd waited for her and now she was fighting an unknown demon to stay with her.

Brittany hardly needed any more reason to make her see what an idiot she'd been. She dived onto the bed, scrambling up to Santana so fast that she jumped in fright.

Brittany gripped her cheeks and crashed their lips together.

"You're right," she mumbled between fervent, desperate kisses. "You're right, San. I've been so silly. All I need is you. It's all I've ever needed. You make everything better."

Santana's arms went around her waist, pulling their bodies flush with each other and deepened their kisses. Languid tongues stroked their mouths and stifled moans echoed around the room.

"I love you," Brittany said, breaking away and staring into Santana's eyes. "I love you and fuck any insecurities or fears. We're meant to be together and we can deal with anything that comes our way. Together."

Santana nodded. "Together," she echoed.

Their lips met again and Brittany shrugged out of her jacket.

"I want you," Santana breathed.

Brittany nipped her neck. "Make love to me, Santana."

* * *

She awoke first the next morning and had never been more thankful that it was a Saturday. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow so that she could unabashedly stare at her lover as she still slumbered deeply. She’d never been able to do it before, not in five years.

Her eyes roamed over every expanse of naked skin that wasn't covered by the thin sheet they'd haphazardly thrown over themselves in the early hours of the morning after much tender and passionate lovemaking. In retrospect, she wasn't sure how she'd managed to _not_ have sex with Santana for so long.

Santana was lying on her stomach, her dark hair draped across the pillow and her back. Her breathing was deep and even and Brittany's own breath caught in her throat as she realised that this was what she wanted – no, _needed_. She needed to be with Santana in every sense of the word. Looking at her, deeply asleep, she felt no fear, no insecurities. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was what she wanted.

She wanted everything with Santana. And she was ready for it.

* * *

Santana surprised her on her birthday with a picnic on the beach. It was a perfect day. They fed each other and stole kisses. Most of the time they just smiled at each other in utter contentment.

More than ever, she knew that she'd made the right choice. She was happy, so happy. She had no more worries. Santana never gave her any reason to doubt anything. They spent almost every night together, staying at either of their apartments. Lately, it had become Santana's more because Quinn had complained that they always woke her up with their 'loud, animalistic sex noises'.

Sex with Santana was still the best she'd ever had. And it was only better now because there was nothing to hold them back. Santana was completely invested in Brittany and their relationship and Brittany reciprocated enthusiastically.

"I have something for you," Santana said, pulling an envelope out of her bag.

"My birthday letter?" Brittany squealed, clapping her hands.

Santana smiled and lay back as Brittany's eyes devoured the letter.

_My dearest Brittany,_

_Twenty-six glorious years on this earth and I am so fucking happy that I'm spending it with you. Crass? Perhaps. I sometimes find it difficult to be soft and loving and use nice words when the passion that you ignite in me is so great and burns so intensely that nice words just don't suffice to express myself properly._

_These last few months have been a dream come true for me. I have loved every single second and I almost feel guilty because it feels like I'm the one who's getting a gift, even though it's your birthday. Almost ;)_

_I have a proposition for you, and I'll completely understand if you think it's too soon. But, like you said, we should give in to the spontaneity and impulsive nature of our love so that fear doesn't have a chance to settle._

_So, Brittany Pierce, would you move in with me?_

_All my love,_

_Santana_

Brittany blinked and looked at her girlfriend in disbelief. Santana looked nervous and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Yes!" she yelled, launching herself at Santana.

Santana's laugh warmed her insides and she held her tightly. It was perfect. They were perfect.

* * *

They'd come to the agreement that, instead of Brittany moving into Santana's apartment or vice versa, they'd look for a new apartment to move into together.

Both were doing exceptionally well at work, so they managed to find a very nice apartment in close proximity to their respective jobs quite easily.

Quinn wasn't surprised, but she was a little sad that she'd be losing her roommate. Brittany promised they'd come visit all the time and that they'd even have a few sleepovers. They hugged and Santana rolled her eyes.

It took them a month to move everything because work was a little crazy. Mayweather were looking to buy out a smaller company so both Santana and Brittany were up to their elbows in paperwork and preparation.

The first week in October saw them spending their first evening together in their new apartment. Naturally, it led to sex on every available surface. Brittany called in sick the next day because she couldn't walk.

Quinn met a guy through her work and Brittany was very happy to see her best friend finally finding a sliver of the happiness she had with Santana. Unfortunately, the new boyfriend didn't take very well to Quinn's best friend being gay. That relationship ended rather abruptly with Santana punching him. Neither Quinn nor Brittany reprimanded her for it, though.

They spent a quiet Thanksgiving dinner together with Quinn and had a sleepover, all three falling asleep in Quinn's king-sized bed.

Brittany woke up with a smile, snuggled against Santana's back and squeezed Quinn’s hand before falling back to sleep.

Yup, things were pretty fucking perfect.

* * *

Brittany was nervous. She stared at the letter in her hand and swallowed. She put it carefully on the coffee table and wiped her hands on her pants. She stood up and started pacing.

Quinn had helped her formulate the letter with much reluctance. After her history with Santana and Brittany's letter relationship, she was disinclined to get involved. Brittany had pulled out the super pout (trademarked) and her Quinn had folded.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered, walking from the kitchen counter to the couch and back.

"Everything okay, baby?"

She jumped and squeaked in surprise. She hadn't even heard the front door open.

Santana smiled at her.

"F-fine," she stammered.

"Sure?"

She nodded.

Santana's eyes drifted to the coffee table and her smile widened. "Is that my birthday letter?"

Brittany just nodded, not trusting her voice. Santana bounded to the couch with Brittany-like energy and pulled Brittany down with her, opening the letter carefully as she snuggled into her.

"Baby, your heart is racing," Santana murmured, pausing in her letter opening activity and looking up at her in concern. It only made Brittany more nervous.

She indicated the letter with her eyes and Santana furrowed her brows before conceding. Her eyes skimmed over the words and her smile widened.

"Yes! I love treasure hunts!" Santana said happily, jumping up and running into their bedroom.

Brittany stayed on the couch and watched her girlfriend roam from location to location in their apartment as she uncovered more clues. The penultimate clue was in the kitchen and she glanced up and winked at Brittany before skipping back to her.

"Apparently you have my next clue, Miss Pierce?"

"Y-yeah. It's, uh, the last one."

"Okay."

Brittany pulled the small envelope from her left jacket pocket, keeping her other hand deep in the right one. She watched Santana carefully as she opened the envelope. The smile on her face slowly formed a small 'o' shape and her breathing intensified. Her eyes lifted to meet Brittany's, causing her to almost chicken out. Almost.

"Happy birthday, San," she said softly, pulling the box out of her right pocket and handing it to her girlfriend.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Brittany, I…oh my God."

_Shit. I made a mistake. She doesn't want this._

"Ask me?"

She blinked. Huh?

Santana licked her lips and a small smile crossed her face. "I want to hear you ask me," she said softly. "Please?"

Brittany swallowed and slipped off the couch and onto one knee in front of Santana. She lifted her gaze and met the eyes that she'd fallen in love with at sixteen. That was a good start, actually…

"Santana Lopez, I have been hopelessly and completely in love with you for ten years. Would you allow me the honour of continuing to do so for the rest of my life by becoming my wife?"

She opened the box and Santana gasped. Brittany wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad gasp.

 _God, this is nerve-wracking_.

"Fuck, Brittany, you amaze me every day," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Brittany frowned in confusion. She still wasn't sure-

"Yes! Yes! Fucking yes! Of course I'll marry you!" Santana shouted happily, throwing her arms around her and pulling her onto the couch and into a passionate, messy kiss.

After a while, she pulled away and held up the box. "Think I can put this on your finger now?"

Santana giggled and held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers. Brittany took the ring out and tossed the box somewhere. The slight tremble in Santana's bottom lip meant she knew she'd be retrieving it soon.

She slipped the ring onto Santana's finger and kissed each finger, lingering on the ring finger that now adorned a seriously expensive piece of bling. Not that she cared. She'd buy the world for Santana.

"Hey, fiancée?" she whispered.

Santana grinned widely. "Yes, fiancée?"

"You wanna go have engagement sex?"

* * *

New Year’s Eve on the pier was colder than the last two years. She pulled her fiancée close to her and stared into her eyes with a big smile.

"A year ago, I told you that I would spend the whole night and following day with you," Santana said, her eyes shining with love. "I never thought we'd be engaged."

"Is that a problem?" she teased.

Santana pulled her down for a kiss. "Not in the slightest. It's even better than I could have ever imagined."

Brittany grinned and rested her forehead against Santana's, listening to the people around them counting down.

Fireworks exploded around them, but they were too lost in their anniversary kisses to care about anyone else.

Everything was fucking perfect.


	5. Epilogue

_June 20th 2021_

_My Dearest Santana_

_Five years to the day that we walked hand-in-hand back up the aisle after being pronounced married. Time flies, huh? Especially when you're having fun. I wish we had more fun…_

_I miss you, Santana. I miss you when you're away at work, when you're at home but sitting in your office, when you're sitting next to me and I can tell that you're thinking about something else. The worst is when we're making love and you don't even look at me anymore. When was the last time we even made love?_

_I can't believe that as I'm sitting here, my bags are packed and waiting by the door. I'm leaving, Santana. It's our goddamn anniversary and you're at work. I dreamed that we'd be talking about having a family at this stage of our lives, if we hadn't started one already._

_It's breaking my heart to write this letter to you. We were so happy, Santana. What happened? Did you become bored of me? Did the letters I sent you not have the same effect? Was the sex bad? Was I loving you wrong?_

_The worst part is that I was so convinced that you were going to make me your priority. After everything we went through, you were supposed to love me and want me forever. That's how these things are supposed to work. You hurt me, broke my heart and I took you back. You told me that you were going to spend the rest of your life making me feel like your number one, like the single most important thing in the world. You wrote that in your fucking vows, Santana._

_I don't know where you are right now, or who you're with. The unknown is probably what hurts the most. I thought I trusted you. But you never tell me anything anymore. I haven't had a letter from you in months. That's always been our thing, San. Always. It's how we found each other again. And now I feel like I've lost you. Again. And I'm the one walking away. Again._

_Sadly, I think it's because you're too scared. Once upon a time, we didn't give fear a chance to worm its way into our relationship. And yet I'm always the one making the difficult decisions while you let them just pass you by._

_Well, Santana, you just let me pass you by._

_I wish I could say that I didn't love you. I wish I could say that I didn't wish more than anything that you would come running through that door and shower me with love and affection and tell me that I'm your number one. I wish that I didn't know that I probably won't get a letter from you. I wish that I didn't wish that I did._

_I wish that you loved me enough._

_I wish that you'd just told me you didn't want me anymore._

_Always wishing for you,_

_Brittany_

* * *

_June 29th 2021_

_Brittany,_

_It's taken me nine days to write this because I've been unable to come up with the words that I feel would quell your worries and concerns. This last week has been torture for me. I hate not having you here. I hate not being able to turn to you in the middle of the night as we sleep and just hold each other. I hate that you're not eating cereal in the kitchen when I come in after my shower. I hate that I can't watch Saturday morning cartoons because it's just not the same without you._

_Brittany, I hate that you're not here. I hate it._

_But I hate that it's my fault._

_You were right to leave. Again. I hate that it always takes these drastic measures for me to see how much I'm fucking up. And I hate that it's always you that gets hurt so much. I would gladly take all the pain that I cause you if it means that you can just be the Brittany that I love so much._

_I do love you, Brittany. I love you so much that I am swirling into a pit of depression without you here. I've hardly eaten, I doubt I've showered more than twice. I can't seem to function without you._

_I love you and I need you. I didn't know that you didn't feel like I didn't. I'm so sorry. I know that I've been distracted. No excuse will be enough. Neglecting you is completely inexcusable. Utterly unjustifiable. You ARE my number one. You always have been and you always will be._

_Please come home. Come home and I'll show you that you're my number one._

_All my love,_

_Always,_

_Santana_

* * *

_July 10th 2021_

_Santana_

_It's unfair of you to say all those things to me. You haven't shown me affection in months. Not the kind of affection that you used to show me every second of the day. You made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. You made me feel like the most loved. Now…I don't feel like that. I feel like the most neglected. And a wife should not feel that. Not when you promised, San. You promised._

_I'm not coming home. You need to do more than tell me how terrible you feel. I know our saying has always been words speak louder than actions, but I'm not sure words are going to be enough this time. That scares me so much because I am hurting. I hate not being there as much as you hate me not being there._

_But I have to be strong because you're not. Do you know that in your last letter you didn't once say sorry for anything?_

_Missing you,_

_Brittany_

* * *

_July 12th 2021_

_My Britt-Britt_

_Tell me what I need to do, Brittany! Please! I'll do anything. ANYTHING! I'm slowly dying without you. Not seeing you, not hearing your voice…_

_You're not answering my calls, emails, IMs, anything. How am I supposed to act when you won't allow me to?_

_Nevertheless, I fought for you once and I married you. I won't fail to win you back again._

_If it's the last thing I do, Brittany Pierce, I swear I will win you back._

_All my love,_

_Santana_

* * *

_August 3rd 2021_

_Dear Santana_

_The gifts are sweet gestures, but that's all they are, San. Gestures. I don't need gestures. I need…_

_Well, I know what I need. You need to figure it out if you want me back._

_Hoping,_

_Brittany_

* * *

The door trembled against the violent knocking. She glanced up from her cereal and frowned. Who the hell would be visiting her parents at eight am on a Saturday?

She opened the door and smiled.

"I need you," Santana pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "Please, Brittany. I can't go on without you. You're my everything. Tell me what I need to do. I'll honestly do anything. I'll…" Her voice choked. "If you wish, I'll leave you alone."

Brittany stepped forward and took her hand, pulling her close. Santana clung to her desperately.

"Don't you see, San? All I needed was you. It's all I've ever needed. You just had to remember that you need me too. You need me enough to come and fetch me."

"I'm so stupid," she sobbed into Brittany's shirt.

"You are," Brittany sighed. "But I still love you."

"I'm sorry, Britt. I'm so, so, so sorry. I'm so sorry."

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her and sitting with her wife on the swing seat hanging from the porch.

"I-I-I quit m-my job," Santana said urgently, watery brown eyes boring into her blue ones.

"Why would you do that?" Brittany asked calmly.

"Because it was pulling me away from you. I knew it was. But I wanted to make sure that we were secure, that we had enough."

"For what?"

"For our family." Her voice is quiet.

Brittany's eyes are wide. "You never said anything."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. But then things just got ahead of me and everything just got so overwhelming. And I didn't realise until it was too late. Again. I don't expect you to forgive me, Brittany. I would like to try and convince you to give us another chance. Come home with me and let me remind you how much I love you. Please?"

Brittany nodded and her wife smiled in relief.

"Reason one, Brittany Pierce: You are my first and only love."

She blushed. She knew Santana had all the reasons memorised. This was what she wanted. She wanted her wife to remember why she'd fought for her before. She wanted her to remember why she loved her.

Santana leaned closer. "Reason two, Brittany Pierce: I will always wait for you."

Brittany closed her eyes.

"Reason three, Brittany Pierce: You saw me when no one else did."

She can feel her breath run across her face now. Reasons four and five are her favourites. They were her absolute favourites out of the four hundred and seventy-one reasons that Santana had written, each one different. She'd checked.

"Reason four, Brittany Pierce: I was put on this planet to love you. That is my task. It has been since the day I was born and it will be till the day I die."

Brittany let out a breath she hadn't even been aware she was holding. She knew Santana was very close as her fifth reason came out in a whisper so soft that only because they were millimetres apart was Brittany able to hear it.

"Reason five, Brittany Pierce: You are my perfect match. And I am yours. You told me that on Valentine's Day of our senior year in high school and I will never forget how much I wished I was brave enough to tell you that I wanted everything with you. Brave enough to kiss you in that crowded hallway like I'd wanted to so much."

"Kiss me now," Brittany begged.

Their lips met and all the other four hundred and sixty-six reasons were forgotten because none mattered as long as Santana kept holding onto her and kissing her like she was the most important thing in the world. Like she was the number one thing.

That was all she needed.


End file.
